"Mr. Hudson – Mr. Karofsky – this behavior is simply unacceptable." Principal Figgins' voice was severe and unyielding. "Violence of any kind will not be tolerated in McKinley's sacred halls of learning."

"Since when?" Finn muttered under his breath, earning a sharp look from the principal – but not particularly caring at the moment. "That rule must be new, 'cause it sure as hell wasn't around a few months ago, when this asshole was knocking my brother around every day!"

"But I didn't do anything to him today!" Karofsky interrupted, frustration in his tone as he slammed his hand down on the armrest of his chair to punctuate his words. "Damn it, Hudson, I was just trying to help!"

Finn scoffed, opening his mouth to let Karofsky know just what he thought of that assertion.

"Language, boys, please," Figgins interrupted, but his tone had softened, and his words were accompanied by a heavy sigh, as he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger for a moment before looking up. "I realize that this has been a difficult time for your family, Finn. I understand that you are under a lot of stress, and feel the need to defend your stepbrother. However, it is unfair to jump to conclusions and accuse David of things he hasn't done."

"Recently," Finn added darkly. "And I'm not even so sure about that."

"Kurt just said in the hallway that I didn't do anything!" Karofksy insisted.

"Yeah, and you've never made him feel threatened or scared enough that he'd keep his mouth shut about the shit you've pulled with him, have you?" Finn snapped, his voice scathing with disgust. "Except – oh, wait…"

"Finn," Figgins interrupted in a sad, patient voice, "there are several witnesses who saw the incident in the hallway, before you arrived. They, too, claim that David was not trying to harm or frighten Kurt in any way."

"I wasn't," Karofsky agreed, seeming to be calmed somewhat by Figgins' words. "I just bumped into him around the corner, and he just – freaked out, and…"

"He freaked out," Finn interrupted, his voice low and furious, rising in intensity as he continued, "because you made his life hell for the past year! If you hadn't done what you did to him before, then I wouldn't have thought anything about it, and bumping into you in the hallway wouldn't have scared him…"

"Finn, have you even looked at him lately?" Karofsky sighed in frustration, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "These days everything scares him."

Finn nearly came out of his seat then, the urge to knock Karofsky's teeth in overwhelming all rational thought. "What are you doing looking at him, you psycho?" he demanded. "You're still fucking stalking him, aren't you?"

"No!" Karofsky yelled back. "It's just – you can't miss it, is all. I just – I was just trying to help…"

"You can help…" Finn snarled, rising from his seat and heading toward the door. "… by staying the hell away from my brother!"

"Sit down, Mr. Hudson, we are not finished," Figgins demanded, rising from his seat and fixing Finn with a warning glare.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Figgins," Finn replied, shaking his head and blinking back furious, frustrated tears. "But – I am. Give me detention, suspend me, what – whatever you have to do, but – but I just need to go home."

And without waiting for permission, or offering any further explanation, Finn stepped out into the hallway. He'd made it about halfway toward the exit when Karofsky's voice from down the hall, anguished and furious, stopped him in his tracks.

"I'm sorry, okay?"

Finn slowly turned toward him, glaring, outraged. He knew he shouldn't, knew he should just go on home as he'd said, but he found himself striding back towards Karofsky, swiftly closing the distance between them. Karofsky didn't back down, but his voice was more subdued as he continued, quiet and confused.

"I just – I didn't know this was going to happen, you know? I couldn't have known…"

"Like if it hadn't happened, everything you did would be okay?" Finn snapped, disgusted and furious.

Karofsky shook his head, eyes downcast, visibly struggling for words. "That's… not what I'm saying…"

"He never deserved that, Karofsky. Never. He never did anything to you. But it takes him getting…" Finn couldn't bring himself to say aloud the awful word screaming through his thoughts. "… a-attacked… and… and terrorized… in his own home… for you to decide you feel bad about terrorizing him first?"

"I-I'm just sorry, okay?" Karofsky insisted, his tone taking on a pleading note as he finally ventured to meet Finn's eyes. "If there was something I could do to – to take it back, but…"

"But there isn't." Finn's voice was cold, disgusted, as he glared at Karofsky in utter contempt. "All you can do now is stay the fuck away from my brother – because if I see you within ten feet of him again…" Finn stopped, shaking his head, unable to come up with a threat that was both strong enough, and wouldn't get him expelled. "Just… just stay away," he concluded finally.

Karofsky offered no defense, no response at all, as Finn turned on his heel and strode back toward the exit.

Kurt spent the greater part of the afternoon at The Lima Bean with Santana, taking advantage of their free wi-fi in order to watch funny videos on YouTube and try to forget, just for a little while, why they'd skipped out on their afternoon classes in the first place. Once they'd taken up the same table for nearly three hours, and the Lima Bean staff started giving them looks of irritation, Santana finally drove Kurt home.

She surprised him as he was reaching for the car door handle, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Call me later," she suggested, drawing back and giving him a smile far more warm and genuine than the scary, calculating ones he was used to seeing on her face. She shrugged slightly. "You know, if you get bored. Or whatever."

Kurt returned her smile, unable to conceal his gratitude, not so much for what she had said as for what she wasn't saying. She didn't ask him if he was okay. She didn't ask him if he needed to talk. She didn't try to tell him how to solve a problem that neither of them had any clue how to deal with.

She was just – there, until he was ready to be alone again – and then, just like that, she was gone.

Kurt went to his room and lay down, feeling suddenly exhausted – and for the first time in days, he fell almost immediately into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

Perhaps if he'd been better rested, he might have been in a better frame of mind when he was roused from sleep by the rather insistent knocking on his bedroom door. He ignored it at first, wrapping his pillow around his head and turning away from the door. He just wanted to be left alone. But when the knocking didn't stop, he finally conceded defeat and went to the door, grumbling under his breath.

The fact that it was his best friend interrupting his sleep didn't make it any better.

In fact, since his best friend was Rachel Berry – it probably made it worse.

The open, sincere concern in her eyes when he opened the door made Kurt feel a profound sense of irritation, and he rolled his eyes, his voice flat and hoarse with sleep.

"What."

He immediately tossed himself back down on his bed, burying his face in his pillow without waiting for her response.

"Kurt – are you okay?" Rachel asked, sitting down on the side of his mattress. "You weren't in school this afternoon."

Kurt reluctantly rolled over onto his side to face her, a sick feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. "Did Finn tell you?" he guessed, not trying very hard to keep the accusing tone out of his voice. He was feeling strangely defensive, although he reminded himself that he had no reason to feel guilty. It was nobody's business but his if he wanted to skip a few classes.

"He didn't say anything." Rachel shook her head. "I don't think – I don't think he was in class this afternoon, either," she admitted, a sad uncertainty in her eyes, and Kurt felt a bit of sympathy for her in spite of himself. "I – I thought he might be here, but…"

"Well, he's not," Kurt sighed. "And I was sleeping, so…"

"Did something happen today?" Rachel asked. "Santana wasn't around, either, and…"

"That's because she was with me," Kurt sighed, aware of the leading nature of her comment, but too tired to bother trying to skirt around it. "We went for coffee and watched stupid videos and talked about nothing in particular. It was way more fun than advanced trig."

"Kurt…" Rachel hesitated, and Kurt braced himself for the lecture. "Are you – are you sure that's a good idea right now?"

"What?" Kurt retorted, raising an eyebrow at her and watching her closely. "Skipping school – or skipping school with Santana?"

Rachel frowned, shaking her head slightly. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You don't like her, Rachel," Kurt pointed out with a shrug, sitting up. "It's no secret. So maybe your problem isn't so much that I'm skipping school as it is that I'm hanging out with Santana." He paused, not giving himself time to reconsider before adding bluntly, "Instead of you."

"That is absolutely not true!" Rachel insisted hotly, rising to her feet to punctuate her indignation. A moment later, her voice softened as she ventured to ask with an almost pleading note in her voice, "But – why are you? I mean, Kurt – after everything we've been through together, all the things we've shared, I – I feel like I can talk to you about anything. And – and I know I do a lot of talking about me and my stuff, but – all I want right now is to be here for you, and…"

"I know," Kurt interrupted with a heavy sigh, staring down at the bed and picking idly at his blanket. "Maybe that's the problem."

"What?" Rachel shook her head, frowning. "I-I don't understand."

"Maybe I don't want to hang out with people who can't stop asking me every ten minutes if I'm okay or not. Maybe I'd rather be with someone who's okay with me just feeling how I feel and not trying to make them feel better all the time."

"And if this person also happens to be encouraging you to self-destruct?" Rachel's voice rose in frustration as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Santana's not the best example to follow, Kurt…"

"I don't need an example," Kurt snapped, standing up and facing her, mirroring her challenging pose. "And I don't need an amateur therapist or advice on how to deal from people who have no idea what I'm going through!" Almost as soon as the words left his lips, Kurt realized his mistake, how he'd very nearly let Santana's secret out with his own, and he swiftly, smoothly covered by adding, "Santana doesn't do that! She doesn't try to tell me how to handle this, but everybody else seems to think that's the thing to do, even though they don't have a freakin' clue, and I just wish that everybody'd just back off!"

"But you're not thinking clearly right now, Kurt," Rachel insisted. "You're making terrible choices, and…"

"One afternoon, Rachel!" Kurt realized that he was almost yelling, but felt no desire to control his reaction. "One half of one day of missed classes is not self-destructing! So I needed some room to breathe, one day after the entire world finds out what happened to me! Why is that so terrible? Santana may be a bitch, but at least she can comprehend why that might be something I need and cut me a little slack, here! But my best friend, on the other hand, apparently can't. Well, fine. I'm not asking you to understand. I'm not asking you for anything, except to just give me some freaking space and leave me alone!"

"I wouldn't be able to call myself your friend if I didn't tell you what I think," Rachel sniffed, her voice trembling and tearful. "But if you don't want that, then fine! If what you really want is space, then I'll leave – but you might want to be careful, because if you keep treating your friends this way, pretty soon you just might have more 'space' than you can handle!"

She spun on her heel and headed for the door.

"Not likely!" Kurt yelled after her, kicking angrily at his bed before sitting down on the edge of it with a frustrated huff.

Almost immediately, he regretted the way he'd talked to her – not that he felt he was wrong, not really. She and Finn and the others were all crowding him, expecting him to give them answers, when he wasn't even sure of the questions himself, and it was the last thing he needed, and – and she was only trying to help, after all, wasn't she? She was, as always, frustratingly certain of her own rightness – but she was his best friend, and he'd brushed her off, practically chasing her out the door as if she meant nothing to him.

With a heavy sigh, Kurt rose again and headed toward the door. Maybe he could still catch her before she left. Before he could open the door, however, it swung open inward, and Rachel was standing there, tears shining in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out. "Kurt, I'm so unbelievably dumb sometimes, and this whole situation is so hard, because I just want to fix it, and I don't know how to help you, but I just want to so much, and – and I'm doing it again, aren't I? That thing where I make stuff all about me, when it's not, it's about you, and I should be listening to what you need, or – or just shutting up, if that's what you need, and I just can't tell you how sorry I am, Kurt, for the way I've…"

"Rachel?"

She immediately stopped, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. "Yes, Kurt?"

He smiled back at her through his own tears, his voice hoarse and filled with affection that belied his words. "Shut up." Before Rachel could react, Kurt pulled her into a warm hug, burying his face against her shoulder. "I'm sorry, too," he whispered. "I know you're trying. I – I can't expect anybody else to know how to handle this any better than I do. I just – it's hard, you know?"

"I know," Rachel whispered, nodding and hugging him back for a moment before pulling away. "But you've made it clear you need some space right now, so I'm going to go. If that's still what you want. Okay?" She was so hesitant, so cautious, and Kurt couldn't help but appreciate the effort.

"Yes, please," he sighed with an apologetic grimace. "I'm just so tired, and… and I haven't been sleeping, and… right now I feel like I could sleep for a week…"

"Okay," Rachel agreed. "I'll get out of your way. And – if you don't want to talk about it, I – I get that. Just…" She was quiet for a moment, swallowing hard and looking down before meeting his eyes again, solemn and pleading. "Don't shut me out completely, okay?"

"Oh, Rachel…" Fresh tears welled in Kurt's eyes, and he leaned in to hug her again. "Of course I won't."

"It's just that I love you so much," Rachel whispered tearfully. "I don't know what to do, but – but I just love you and want to be able to do something…"

"Maybe that's… all I need you to do right now," Kurt pointed out, drawing back to meet her eyes ruefully. "Just – keep loving me, even when I'm – utterly terrible. Because… I don't know what I'm doing right now, Rachel," he admitted softly, shaking his head. "I don't know how to be or feel or… or anything, and… I just need some space, and… and time to figure it out, without… feeling like nobody's going to be left when I finally do."

Rachel's eyes softened with sympathy, and she replied emphatically, "I will always be here, Kurt. You just… take whatever time you need, and if I can do something, let me know, but… even if I can't, and even if it takes you a while to figure it out, whenever you do… I'm still going to be right here."