A/N: Okay, the reviewers people just went on my cool people list, right after Gwen Stefani. Oh, by the way, Gwen isn't named after her. She's named after Gwen Vardon, Roxie Hart's original actress on Chicago in the seventies. I thought it fit since Gwen is kind of a musical fanatic.

Toxic-Beetle: Hope your birthday was good. And hahaha, you don't feel sorry for Caroline. Well, you're not really supposed to.

Ebdena: Thanks, I'm glad you think this is "kewl." Go finish a new chapter for Abandoned to Lose all Hope, please. Yay Kitten!

A/N 2: I"m writing this while watching THE PROUD FAMILY while all my friends have probably gone to a party and are laughing it up behind my back. My life is SO unfair.

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men. If I did, I'd wear that jacket Storm had in the museum scene all the time.

Chapter Nine: All I Care About

Germany, 1984

It had started a few days ago just after Caroline and Emmett had come home from the hospital. Caroline had been crying, and talking to Emmett in English, so he had no idea what they were saying. After a few minutes of trying to eavesdrop, he'd shocked himself on the stair railing and ran back to his room as fast as possible.

The next day, Emmett had gone home and left Caroline alone. She sat in the den, sniffling and staring off into space, while Kurt skulked around upstairs, feeling nauseous. It hadn't occured to him why Caroline might be alone, but he didn't like the emptiness of the house.

Later that day, after she had gone to bed, Kurt snuck downstairs to see if he could grab a book off of the shelf for the next day. He wasn't that interested, as he had been since Raven's departure, but if he had to stay upstairs all day he didn't want to be bored out of his skull.

He tiptoed over to the den, wincing as his bare, disfigured feet touched the freezing floor, and sighed quietly. He wouldn't be able to go outside tonight, it was too cold now. Kurt pressed his fingertip against the spine of the Bible, barely making out the gold lettering on it from the yellow streetlight touching down gently into the room through the window. It was wedged in tightly between two other books, but if he inched it off slowly, he could get it without Caroline ever knowing he had been there.

He nudged his hand underneath it, and pulled. It gave a little, but then stopped moving. He pulled it again, a little harder, and finally yanked it off, feeling momentarily triumphant, until, to his horror, three books fell off of the shelf and landed with a loud thumph on the floor.

Kurt froze. Had Caroline heard that? If he ran now, he'd be able to get to his room before she came down. But if she didn't, and she found the books there in the morning, he'd pay big. He picked one up off of the floor and quickly put it back, his heart beating loudly. If she hadn't come down by now, she probably wouldn't at all. He slowed down and put the next one on the shelf more carefully. He'd be okay. He'd be okay.

His heart rate slowed down a tad, and he breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth. He'd gotten himself worked up for nothing.

Were those footsteps?

Caroline was coming.

He thought about his options for a split second. If he ran, maybe he could make it. No. She was coming down that way. Maybe if he flattened himself against the wall, she wouldn't see him. He pressed his back in the corner formed by the bookshelf and the wall, just as Caroline came into the room with a broom held high.

"I know you're there!" she yelled, looking scared and holding the broomstick tightly, gripping the broom like a bat and walking forward slowly. "Come out now!"

Kurt didn't move. Caroline's knuckles turned white as she stepped into the light, looking around. He moved even closer to the wall, hoping she'd skip this corner.

"Come...out...NOW!" she screamed, her lips trembling. Kurt flinched, and she whirled around, looking ready to beat up an intruder. Instead she found him.

She stared at him for a minute, shocked. He stared back, fear gripping him in a big wave. They stood like that for a moment, until she stepped towards him, dropping the broom on the floor.

"What," she asked quietly, "are you doing here?"

Her voice was too dangerous. It was best not to answer. He simply made no motion.

She stepped forward once more.

"I said, What are you doing here?"

She was so close that if Kurt reached his arm out, he would touch her.

"Well?"

He didn't say anything, just pressed himself further into the corner.

"What are you doing here?"

The last sentence had a sharper edge to it, and Kurt knew he was in trouble. Caroline took one more step closer, and he was an inch away from her. He tried to move further back, but it was impossible. This was it. She was a bomb, and one sudden move would set her off.

He blinked.

Caroline hooked her fingers underneath the collar of his shirt, took a step backwards, and threw Kurt to the ground forcefully. He felt his body skid across the rug a half foot or so. Something in his mind sighed. Not this again.

Kurt twisted his thin frame around so he faced the ceiling and saw Caroline standing over him, shaking with anger. He raised his chest off of the floor and started to crawl backwards using his hands, but she wasn't having any of it. She bent down over him, grabbed his shirt, and pushed him flat on the ground, knocking the wind out of him.

Kurt choked in disbelief as he watched Caroline kneel on the floor, still holding his shirt, and straddle his hips, eyes blazing maliciously. He gasped for breath unsuccessfully.

She pulled his face close to hers, noses almost touching.

"This is all - your - fault," she snarled through gritted teeth. She shook him once, twice, three times.

Kurt coughed and wheezed, still shocked. "Wh-" he tried, and coughed again. "What?"

She threw him against the floor and pressed her hands against his shoulders, preventing any escape. He flung his arms and legs around uselessly.

"It's YOUR fault she had a heart attack! It's your fault she died! It's your fault we moved, and that Dad left us, and that I have no friends but Emmett, it's all your fault! I hate you!"

Caroline had never done this before. She had called him names, and sometimes insulted him, and hurt him, but she never talked to him, or held him down. He didn't like this at all, this wasn't normal. He didn't like the feeling of her sitting on him, he didn't like the pointless accusations. Rolanda had died?

"Get...off...me," he managed to choke out frantically. Instead she ground down harder and shifted her weight to the place right between his hips and his stomach, digging her long fingernails into his shoulders.

"Shut up!" Caroline screamed, nearly piercing his skin. "Just shut up!" She lifted her hands from his shoulders and Kurt sighed in relief, but not for long.

"What are you doing?" he cried, as she ripped off his shirt. She paused long enough to slap his cheek. He grabbed at it, feeling like it had just been set on fire.

Kurt was topless now, shivering at the cool air as she tossed his shirt off to the side. He stared up at Caroline, puzzled, shaky, and cold, as she pulled on the broom next to her and unscrewed the bristles angrily.

He was scared now.

"Please get off me," he whimpered quietly, tasting blood in his mouth from where he'd accidentally bitten his tongue in all of the excitement.

She ignored that last comment, and threw the broomstick away carelessly, waving the bristles around in the air.

"It's your fault," she spat out, and slammed the hard straw against his bare chest.

Kurt bit down on his lip and shut his eyes, feeling like his chest was trailing with fire ants where she'd hit him. If he screamed he'd only make her angrier. He risked a look from under his lashes at Caroline. She was raising the bristles over her head, preparing to smack him again. Kurt closed his lids again, bracing himself for the next swing.

THWAP!

He heard Caroline grunt as she hit him again, and felt an angry welt rise on his skin. He ground his teeth in pain. Why was she doing this to him?

THWAP!

Pain.

THWAP!

Pain.

THWAP!

His skin had split, he could feel a trickle of blood going down his ribs and the sting of open flesh.

THWAP!

Kurt couldn't help it, he cried out in agony. "Stop it!"

THWAP-THWAP!

She smacked him twice more, quick across the stomach and chest, and tossed the bristles away. Kurt pressed his palms against his eyes, wishing he was any place else but there.

Caroline had balled her hands into fists now, and slammed them against his burning skin. Kurt coughed as she punched him in the stomach, feeling ill. He was so close to crying, but he swore he wouldn't. He took a shaking breath, preparing himself for speech.

"Stop it!" he yelled, choking unhappily as the salt from her sweat seeped into his open wound. He flailed his arms at her face, feeling stupid as they didn't even touch her.

She shoved his hands away, snorting, and slapped his chest right where his ribs met, making a solid, flesh noise.

"You stop it!" she yelled in his face, holding his wrists tightly. He felt a whimper rise in his throat, but didn't let it escape, even as she slid her fingernail against the inline of his wrist.

"Hurts," Kurt murmured, lip trembling. He pressed his eyes closed as she punched him under the rib. He was going to start crying soon, he knew it. It felt like hell, and for all he knew he had died and was going to spend the rest of eternity with Caroline grinding on top of him, hurting him forever.

He let a dry sob out of his mouth. She smacked him again. Kurt began to weep; this was too much.

"Stop," he whispered, then louder: "Stop!"

To his surprise, Caroline rolled off, hugging her face to her knees. Kurt rolled up into a ball, tears streaming down his face. He could hear her crying too, until she stood up quickly and walked away, wiping her face on her sleeves.

Kurt was shocked. Caroline had left because he'd started crying, something that had never happened before. She was sad, because Rolanda had died?

Kurt lay there for a few minutes, not crying, just thinking. Everything hurt.

He stood up when the tingling pain had faded a bit, found his shirt tossed over the chair, and let it hang from his hand limply as he walked back up the stairs, trying to be quiet. He didn't want a repeat of the past hour.

Back in Raven's old room, he threw his torn shirt across the floor angrily and walked into the bathroom. He cleaned his cuts with some alcohol, gasping as it stung his chest. How many times would he have to do this?

Clean and bandaged a little later, Kurt stumbled back into the room and opened the dresser, searching for a new shirt. All he could find was a pale blue one with a hole in the sleeve. He moaned softly and pulled it on, walking towards the bed, which he lay down on eagerly.

He hadn't slept on it since Raven left, in maybe a subconscious hope of her returning, but stayed on his little rug. If he was sleeping here, was he accepting the fact that she wouldn't come back?

He nuzzled his face against the pillow, trying to see if he could still smell her. He breathed in deeply, searching for a trace of her perfume. He couldn't find it.

Kurt sat up and leaned on the headboard, shivering. How did it get so cold at night? A tear trickled down his cheek, and he began to cry again without even noticing. If Rolanda had died, it meant he was left alone in the house with Caroline. He'd give anything if Raven were back. She had ignored him, shushed him, and hadn't even held him, but she was his mother. He needed her, but he couldn't have her.

"Raven, Raven," he sobbed, curling up on her pillow and twisting his tail around himself. He lay like that, crying, until he fell asleep.

A/N: Ohhh, Kurt's hurt! So sad, I have a twisted mind. I only turned fourteen yesterday (October 7th), what's wrong with me!

Next chapter: Caroline's at the school, Kurt's having issues, and Gwen's sleeping in late. Stay tuned!

A/N 2: Okay, know what I realized a few days ago? Raven was reading Bridget Jones' Diary in 1984, but that book wasn't even written until 1997. GO ME! I'm so smart. Not.

A/N 3: Okay, my friend Jenn has a boyfriend who broke up with her and got back together with her in a two-hour period, even though he said he doesn't like her like that, only as a friend. She's liked him since the beginning of the school year, but yesterday she said she might like someone else and was thinking about breaking up with her boyfriend. What do you think she should do? Leave your opinion in your review along with your thoughts on this chapter.