Blaine had realised that all of McKinley basically looked the same – from the outside, at least: crude grey fences and harsh gravel, almost like some kind of prison, was the only outdoor space available. There were no trees, no green spaces, no memorial garden.
He hadn't wanted to arrive early, but, at the same time, he didn't want to kiss anything. How were the McKinley kids even planning to lure Karofsky here, anyway?
Blaine had only been loitering by a dumpster for a few minutes when he heard a loud bell signifying the end of the day and saw students starting the file out of the building and head off in all directions. The sun hung low and cold in the sky.
"Well, if it isn't Hummel's little butt-buddy."
Blaine felt his fists clench and stomach tense as he immediately turned to face Karofsky, who was accompanied by another large kid that Blaine didn't recognise. He did note both boys' red letterman jackets.
For a moment, Blaine's resolve faltered. He didn't actually really was to hurt Karofsky, and it wasn't in his nature to be violent anyway. Flight over fight every time.
But the thought of Kurt, lying bloodied and broken in the cold and the gravel, sobbing for help down the phone, caught him and shook his common sense away. Karofsky couldn't just get away with this. He couldn't.
"Have you seen Kurt recently?" Blaine asked coldly in response.
To his surprise, Karofsky stayed oddly silent.
Thankfully, Blaine was saved having to cope with the situation alone by a shout from across the car park. Finn was jogging towards them, flagged by the rest of the football players come glee members.
Once they'd made it over, the guy Blaine assumed must be Puck turned to Karofsky's friend. "Get outta here, Azimio," he said sternly. "We're here to talk to Karofsky."
Azimio seemed confused, and unsure whether or not to leave. "The hell I'm going, Puckerman!" he responded eventually.
Again Karofsky surprised Blaine. "It's alright, bro, I got this," he said in a measured tone over his shoulder.
"Man, you sure?" Azimio didn't really sound as though he cared.
"Yeah. I'm sure." At this, Karofsky's friend shrugged and, with the surly look at each of the party, headed out the gates.
Finn seemed to size Karofsky up. "Alright, man, you know I don't like you. You treated Kurt like crap and everyone here thinks you're disgusting. But Kurt left and we all thought that was it. The only times we'd have to even look at you would be during football practice. And then you screwed that up." All of a sudden, Finn launched himself forwards into Karofsky, his arm swinging out and catching Karofsky on the side of the head. Karofsky gasped in surprise and fell sideways into the dumpster. On this, the rest of the McKinley guys seemed to jump into action, grappling with Karofsky and forcing him down, laying into him with punches and kicks. Karofsky seemed astonishingly unperturbed by it all, Blaine thought. Yes, he was built like a small nuclear bunker, but the sheer number of boys should have had some kind of effect.
Then Mike Chang caught him hard in the stomach, causing him to double over fully and the rest of the guys to throw him down onto the ground. He seemed satisfyingly injured when the finally pulled back – not critically, but enough.
The McKinley guys pulled back, a few of them turning to face Blaine, who was awkwardly standing a few feet away.
"Blaine?" Finn sounded concerned. Karofsky, despite the let-up, didn't move from where he was lying on the ground.
"Hmm?" Blaine knew what Finn was asking, but didn't to answer him.
Finn stepped back from Karofsky, motioning for Blaine to step forward.
Blaine took a sharp breath. He couldn't harm Karofsky. Not after everything he said to Kurt. Not after everything he'd been through. Not after all the violence that'd already happened. He made a decision. He decided to walk away, to talk to Kurt about this, to keep his morals firm and conscience clear. He nodded to himself and knew this was the right thing to do –
And yet all of a sudden he'd run forward and his foot had sunk into Karofsky's stomach.
It was an odd kind of exhilaration, to kick Karofsky. It was as though Blaine was fighting back against every bully who'd ever hurt him – who'd ever hurt Kurt. He reminded himself that that's whom this was about, and he only kicked harder, feeling a dark, quiet rage pooling in his stomach and clawing its way into his brain.
Blaine paused for a moment, breathing heavily. His body was shaking with adrenaline and his mind felt numb. Karofsky started to pull himself up onto his knees and Blaine swung a final punch that sent him sprawling.
Clenching and unclenching his fists against the pain in them, Blaine noticed the hush that had fallen across the car park behind him. He glanced over his should, seeing all the McKinley guys, and then noticing who they were all staring at.
Kurt was standing not ten feet behind the group of them, a shocked expression still on his face.
Blaine froze, and felt his blood run cold. What must Kurt think of him now? An unintelligent idiot who solved all his problems with his fists? He internally banged his head against a very hard wall. "Kurt," he murmured in surprise.