Kurt pulled into his driveway, humming Outlaws of Love softly to himself. The way people treated him, like he shouldn't even exist, seemed to hurt even more now, after he had sung the song and really seen the scale of it. So many people seemed to think he could never love Blaine the way he does. And that hurt more than anything. Why was it so wrong? What did he ever do to deserve this?
Tears fell from his eyes and he pushed past his dad, running to his room and closing the door. His mind was clouded from the hurt, and before he realized he had even moved, he had picked up a sharp pair of scissors and was stabbing the blade into his porcelain flesh. Pain seared through his arm, white hot, and tears were staining his shirt, but he couldn't bring himself to care at that point. All he could think about was how society rejected him, rejected Blaine, and all he could feel was the pain in his arm. He dropped the blade and just stared at the wound, watching the blood flow from it, tracing intricate designs on his wrist, his palm, his fingers. What the hell have I done?
He raced into his bathroom, wet a cloth and pressed it to the wound while he searched for the bandages. The cloth was slowly turning a deep red and he had no idea there was that much blood in his body. His heart was hammering, the sight of his blood was making him dizzy. Or maybe it was the lack of blood being pumped to his brain. Why is the room spinning? He thought faintly before his vision faded into black.
As he awoke, Kurt was met with a steady beep, beep, beep that seemed to be in time with his heart, and it was a minute before he recognized it and was able to associate it with a place. He was in a hospital, and the sound must be his heart monitor. Why am I in the hospital? His clouded mind wondered, and then memories of earlier flooded back to him. He remembered feeling so hated and there was blood- so much blood- and then just... nothing. Kurt let his eyes flicker open, and the sterile white of the room was so blinding he shut them almost immediately.
"Kurt! Kurt, are you awake, can you hear me?" A low voice, desperate, rough, and so familiar, was somewhere off to his left, and only then he registered two large, worn hands around his much smaller one. But who did that voice belong to? His mind was still too clouded to place it.
Cautiously, not wanting to hurt his eyes, Kurt turned his head and opened them. "Dad..." Kurt's voice was rough from lack of use, but he really had more important things to worry about.
"I'm here, Kurt. What exactly happened?" Burt's eyes met Kurt's, and it was as if a dam holding back Kurt's words was broken.
"Dad, Dad, I'm so sorry. I don't really know what happened, but I just remember feeling like the world was against me and Blaine, and how only a couple people really, truly accept us, and then I had my scissors, and so much blood, so much..." Kurt remembered just how much had been spilled and his voice trailed away, eyes momentarily glazing over.
"I'm just so glad you're alive. But please, please, never do that again." Burt's voice cracked with emotion on the second please.
"It was like I lost control of my body, I was just so..." Kurt couldn't think of a word to describe how he felt when he stabbed his arm. All Burt could do was squeeze his hand; he couldn't even bring himself to speak.
The silence was broken when the nurse entered the room. "Kurt, you're awake. How do you feel?"
"My arm hurts, I'm still just a little dizzy, but other than that I feel okay." He surprised himself with how calm his voice was.
The nurse nodded. "Why did you..." she gestured at his bandaged arm.
"I... it felt like my mind lost control of my body. I didn't even know what I was doing until I had done it. I was... I guess all the hate in my life just caught up to me at once or something. I can't think of any other reason." Kurt once again recalled how he felt.
"We can get you some medication for the pain and it'd be best if you just waited out the dizziness. You seem to be doing well, considering how much blood you had lost."
"How long was I out?"
It was Burt who answered this time. "About an hour. They said you lost a pint of blood in fifteen minutes- you hit a vein dead-on. If you had stabbed a little to either side, you might not have passed out. I'm glad I went into your room to see if you were okay, I called 911 when I saw the blood on the carpet." The nurse nodded and left to retrieve the pain medication.
"I... if you hadn't checked on me..." Kurt couldn't believe just how close he had come to death. The door opened, and Carole ran over when she saw that Kurt's eyes were open.
"Oh, honey, we were so worried about you! I'm just glad you're alive." Carole touched a hand to Kurt's cheek. Just the way Blaine sometimes does... BLAINE! Kurt's eyes widened.
"Blaine!" he cried out, "I have to call him, tell him what happened!" Kurt looked around frantically.
Burt pulled out his cell phone. "You know his number?"
"Yes, I've had it memorized since he gave it to me." Kurt was dialing frantically. He pressed the phone to his ear, his foot twitching impatiently as he waited for Blaine to answer.
"Hello?" Blaine's voice was unsure, a little surprised.
"Blaine! Can you come to the Lima hospital?" Kurt asked urgently, letting a trace of pain show in his voice.
"Kurt! Why? What happened? Are you okay? I'm on my way, be there in an hour."
"I'll fill you in when you get here, it's hard to explain over the phone, but I'm not going to die, I promise."
"Okay, see you in an hour. Love you, Kurt."
"I love you too, Blaine. Bye."
"Bye." Kurt heard Blaine hang up and handed the phone back to Burt.
"I'm still confused," Carole piped up, and Kurt retold his story. She was in shock that he did that to himself, but didn't seem to judge him for it.
"And now we wait for Blaine?" Burt asked.
"And now we wait."
Blaine ran into the room exactly forty-five minutes later, out of breath, a thin layer of sweat coating his forehead. "What happened?"
"Blaine! I... I stabbed my wrist, right on the vein."
"It was an accident?" Blaine's usually bright eyes were dark, clouded with concern.
"No." That one word sent Blaine straight to Kurt's side, and he gripped Kurt's (surprisingly) free hand.
"Oh, Kurt, I just... why?"
And so Kurt told his story once more, how he seemed to have lost control. Blaine seemed to be in shock, but never once showed any sign of judging or thinking less of Kurt.
"I love you." It was all Blaine could think of to say, but it was exactly what Kurt needed to hear.
"I love you too, Blaine. Always." The pain medication was kicking in, and Kurt was starting to feel just a little drowsy. He could feel Blaine's hands around his right hand, Burt's around his left, and he could sense Carole sitting closer to his head, on his right side, and the comfort of having people there allowed him to drift into a restless sleep.
A/N: I think that's a record for page breaks in one of my chapters. I PROMISE I'll have another chapter of Façades up by... how about Wednesday? I have summer reading to do this week (two books, yuck) but that's what SparkNotes is for, right?
YOU GUYS ARE ALL SO AMAZING! -CatCompanion09