This is even more unbeta'd then normal... but i really tried. Love you guys, sorry about the wait, ... not promising it getting any better. Stupid writers block coming around when i have free time on my hands... thats just rude.
Low murmurs burst out of every glee member, spewing them onto their neighbours. They asked behind their hands if each other knew about this. Everyone was clueless. Mr Schuster collected his student's attention just as Kurt wheeled to the front by his disapproving father.
Burt didn't like the idea of Kurt talking in front of the courtroom; he hated the idea Thomas questioning his son. He glared as at the lawyer as he walked back to his seat.
The Glee Club didn't ask him a single question.
Kurt sat up, his back straight as he looked out to anxious-to-know crowd. The microphone was moved to the arm rest of wheel chair. Kurt held his head up, and acted like he couldn't see, or feel his friends watching him. But he did glance at Puck.
Puck was biting down on his tongue, holding everything back as it fought to leave his confinements. It pounded from his insides, wanting out to comfort the boy.
Steck addressed Kurt, "Are you ok with taking the stand, you can still resign."
"I'm fine." Kurt gave a curt nod, saying he was ready. Kurt held his crossed knees tighter, nervous and only a little scared.
Steck nodded like he cared, because he did, "Can you tell us what happened?"
Kurt collected the words before he spoken, clear with an edge slicing through hesitation, "Noah and I had agreement if we meet anyone that the other would find somewhere else to sleep that night. I found someone." Kurt looked down to regain his composure. "Nick Gibson, and myself retired to my room, and-" Kurt smoothed out a wrinkled in his trouser, as he tried to do the same to the lump in his throat.
Puck glanced up, and watched as he wanted to help.
"He raped me. I said stop and he didn't." Kurt's fingers dug into his knee and yet he gave no sign pain.
The lawyer frowned, "Kurt, are you wearing make-up?"
Weight of his foundation, and concealer crushed Kurt as he collected and controlled his tone, "Pardon?" He squeaked at the end of the note despite his efforts.
"Make up?" Steck asked softer, "From the pictures you were bruised and cut... Are you wearing make up?"
"Yes."
Steck nodded, turned and walked to his desk. Puck straightened in his chair, opening his mouth, about to tell him not to go there. Steck gave him a reassuring look as he opened his suitcase. Pulling out baby wipes.
The lawyer turned back to Kurt, "Will you show us?"
Kurt stared at the wipes, his throat tightening over nothing. He took them with his good hand and continued to look at it, "I-I..." His voice cracked.
"You don't have too." Macintosh smiled at the boy.
Kurt pulled out a single wet nap and handed back the box, clinging it his hands. "Thank you." Kurt breathed.
Steck took back the wipes and put them on his desk, "Now what did Noah do?"
"He kicked in the door." Kurt started telling the tale as he knotted the spongy cloth in his hands "And he pulled Nick off of me. Punched him in the eye and threw him across the room." Kurt evened out his breathing as he continued with a brave face.
Puck looked up, sitting up in his chair, and he could see right through that brave face.
"Is that all?" Steck asked.
Kurt shook his head and looked up at Steck his eye crazy bright, "Nick tried to get up, Noah kicked him and he went limp."
Something pounded in Puck as Kurt used his first name.
"But did Noah attack or strike Mr. Gibson after he was immobilized?"
"No."
"Thank you that will be all." Steck smiled and sat back down.
Thomas stood up, and Kurt twisted the wet nap in his hands.
"You invited Mr. Gibson in?" Thomas asked with his head bowed and cock to the side, asking thought his lashes.
Kurt's back tightened into a straight line and he answered with a stiff lip, "Yes."
Thomas stepped around his desk his hands slipping into his pockets, "So you were-are, physically attracted to Nick Gibson."
"Yes." He swallowed his shame, and showed none of it on his face. His features pale and cool, with a fire burning in his cheeks.
Thomas smirked lightly and licked his lips as he continues, "So you were planning on having a physical relationship with him, Mr. Gibson."
The teen's knuckles strained against its skin and the sudsy napkin, "I said stop."
"But you were? What did you think you're going to do? Just Talk?" Thomas knitted his eyebrows together, his mouth open in mock confusion.
Burt and Kurt had very similar reactions. Burt gripped the side the bench, nearly cracking it and Kurt just cracked.
"No, I didn't just want to talk." Kurt's eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward in his wheelchair, "But I said stop." Kurt gripped the baby wipe impossibly tight and his lips pressed together. He began scrubbing at his face, "And this happened because he didn't stop, because he kept going."
Kurt pulled away the wipe and his foundation was smeared, his black eye plain as day, the cuts on his lip exposed. Kurt looked right into Thomas's eyes, as he cleaned his neck, showing the clear hand print.
The court was shocked by the outburst, pleasantly shocked. Ashamed that they liked how Kurt took control of the situation. Kurt, like how he took control.
As the air in the room started to grow awkward because Thomas didn't reply, the grand wooden doors creaked open and a geeky looking law clerk pecked his head in, looking around before darting in, approaching the bench.
He stared in horror at Kurt, at his bruised face. Kurt stared back in horror at the guy's tie.
"Ma'am," He asked, "There is some new evidence that needs to be brought forward."
Macintosh nodded and waved her hand, "All right let's see it."
The clerks head nodded franticly as he rushed into the hall and wheeled out in yet another TV. Everyone was watching him, and he desperately pretended they weren't there, looking down at his feet, and the TV's wheels as he explained, "We were able to lift a video off a damaged Laptop that was in the hotel room."
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