I know my story has been sort of slow, but things should start to pick up from here. (And I guess this chapter doesn't really have a P.O.V. If anything, it's from Kurt's. Just a heads-up.)

Oh, and I also suppose it's important to mention that I do not own Glee.

"Kurt, what are they doing here?" Blaine inquired in a slightly panicked tone at the sight of Kurt's parents. "I told you not to call them, I told you I was fine—"

"Honey, it's not just about your physical health. We want to help you, Blaine. We're going to contact an investigator, maybe a psychologist, and we'll see what they can do for you," Carole explained as she moved towards Blaine. He shrunk back against his pillows.

Kurt sat on the edge of Blaine's bed and spoke in his ear. "Blaine, relax, she's not going to hurt you."

Blaine looked unsure. "I don't want a psychologist," he whispered, his eyes locked on Carole's. "I don't want a psychologist, I'm not crazy."

"Look, kid, we know you're not crazy, but just do us a favor and at least consider letting us take you to therapy. Maybe that way, you'll be more open to letting us hear the details of what went on that day, which will help us catch the people who did this to you," Burt said plainly.

Blaine shook his head firmly.

"Well, if you're not going to accept our help, then where the hell are your parents?"

Kurt stood quickly and rushed over to his father. "No, Dad, he had an outburst about this yesterday… I don't know exactly why he doesn't want his parents to come, he just swears that they wouldn't come anyway…" he whispered.

"Aw, come on, now, that's a load of bullshit," Burt said to Blaine (who had recoiled slightly at Burt's sharp words). "If you don't want to call them, I will, and that's that."

"No, no, my mom's busy, she has work," Blaine said absentmindedly, his eyes wide and glassy and staring into space, "and my dad will be mad at me because if I weren't such a fag, then none of this would have happened."

Burt looked over to Kurt, who was still standing next to him. "What is this, some sort of trance?" he asked under his breath.

"I don't know, all of this is as new to me as it is to you," Kurt replied quietly before walking over to his boyfriend. "Blaine," Kurt started, putting a hand on Blaine's shoulder, "is this why I've never met your father? Because he'd be mad that you have a boyfriend?"

Blaine nodded inattentively, still staring at nothing.

Kurt hesitated slightly before asking his next question. "Does… does your father hate you because you're gay? Is this what you've been trying to tell me?"

Blaine broke down in tears. He nodded through his sobs and took the pillow from behind his head and used it to hide his face.

Burt exchanged a nervous glance with Carole before moving to Blaine's bedside, patting him on his forearm and saying, "Well, kid, I guess we'll be looking after you for a while."

Blaine slid the pillow down from his face just enough so that you could see his eyes. He sniffled. "I don't wanna go back to my house."

But looked at Carole again, but this time it was her that spoke. "That's okay, honey, you can stay with us for a while. But, are you sure you don't at least want to tell your parents—"

"NO!" Blaine roared, throwing his pillow across the room. "I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO THEM!"

Carole and Burt backed away from Blaine a few steps; Kurt, however, didn't budge at the outburst, although he did flinch slightly. "Now, dear, let's calm down…" he said skittishly. Blaine was taking deep, furious breaths, the vein in his temple bulging. He gritted his teeth, clenched his fists and closed his eyes, presumably trying to calm himself. Kurt rubbed Blaine's arm sweetly, staring down at his face.

A profound silence took over the room for several minutes before Burt spoke up. "So, what'd the doctor say was wrong?"

"Two fractured ribs, an injured femoral head, several cuts and bruises to the abdomen and face," Blaine ranted, his eyes vacant again, "and possible internal tearing."

A small gasp came from Carole. Burt stood awkwardly, looking at his shoes, thinking of something comforting to say. Kurt's eyes widened. He squeezed Blaine's shoulder.

"When I woke up here, they had wrapped my ribcage and upper leg, and the doctor said that they had stitched my severe cuts. But I can't be released until a guardian comes to pick me up," Blaine went on emotionlessly, ignoring the reactions to his previous remark.

"Kurt, can I speak to you outside for a second?" Burt said abruptly. Kurt didn't hesitate to follow his father into the hall.

After shutting the door behind him, Burt began to speak without hesitation. "Tell me exactly what happened, Kurt. Who did this to him?"

"I told you on the phone that he was assaulted, and to come to the hospital as fast as you could, Dad. I figured that those words sort of implied that there was something seriously wrong," Kurt said, irritated.

"Yeah, but how was I supposed to know it was this bad? I figured that a couple of kids from his school just, I dunno, threw a few punches at him or something! And now he's saying that he has broken ribs and internal tearing? Do you mean to tell me that Blaine was raped?"

Kurt flinched at the word. He really, really didn't like it. Just the thought of his flawless Blaine being raped made his head spin. He swallowed. "Yes, Dad. From what Blaine has told me, he has been gang-raped."

"Well, Jesus, Kurt, now doesn't that change things!" Burt said, rubbing his forehead. He took a breath to calm himself. "I'm going to see if we can take Blaine home. From what I've gathered, the doctors can't really do any more about the injuries that Blaine has. You and Carole stay here, now. I think I'm going to see where the nearest medical supply store is so we can rent a wheelchair for him for the next few weeks."

And with that, Burt was off on his mission.

Kurt walked back into the hospital room and sat down in his chair, overcome with love for his father. He highly doubted that any other man would rush to the aid of his son's boyfriend so avidly, and for that, he was eternally grateful. For the first time in several days, he felt a smile break out across his face.

XXX

It wasn't long until Burt was back in the hospital room with a rental wheelchair, explaining to everyone that with a few phone calls and signed papers, that he had checked Blaine out of the hospital and they could go home.

An awkward silence consumed the elevator in the parking garage. Blaine sat in his chair, gripping the elbow rests firmly, not making eye contact with anyone. No one spoke.

The car ride home was uncomfortable, too, as every time Burt would ask Blaine a question, he wouldn't receive a reply.

"So, kid, do you think you'd want a back brace? I talked about your ribs with the lady at the medical supply store, and she said that it might help."

No answer.

"I figured that you could stay in the guest room and we could bring your meals up to you, so you don't have to move around as much."

No answer.

"The guest room is upstairs, though, so I'll help you get up there, is that okay?"

Blaine sat in silence, eyes vacant and face expressionless.

XXX

When they arrived at Kurt's house, Blaine insisted upon getting up the stairs by himself. Kurt pushed him to the foot of the staircase, and, using his right, uninjured leg to support himself, stood from his chair. With a firm grip on the banister, Blaine limped up a few steps, hissing whenever he put a slight pressure on his left leg. Burt and Carole watched from the base of the staircase, impressed; Kurt walked beside him, making sure Blaine didn't fall. He felt overjoyed at the sight of his boyfriend climbing the stairs—yes, he had no doubts that Blaine would eventually heal physically, but he wanted him to be independent mentally, too, and this reassured him.

Kurt helped Blaine to the guest room, which was right next door to his. He helped him into bed and covered him with a blanket before sitting next to him. "Mind if I stay?"

Blaine shook his head, his expression emotionless again.

Kurt reclined against the pillows and scooted slightly closer to Blaine in the bed. "You've been acing very… um… bland today. Is something wrong?"

Blaine shook his head again, not looking at Kurt, but rather the wall opposite him.

Kurt took Blaine's chin and turned his head so he would look at him. His beautiful hazel eyes were empty. No, not empty, Kurt corrected himself, more like defeated. "You must have something to say, honey. Anything."

He didn't answer.

"Please? For me?"

Blaine spoke so quietly that Kurt had to strain his ears to hear him. "I feel so embarrassed."

"Why? You have nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetie," Kurt said softly.

"I feel like disappearing, Kurt. Every time someone else is around me, I feel so humiliated. I feel like… they're disgusted with me."

Kurt moved to grab Blaine's hand, but Blaine drew back. Kurt spoke anyway. "No one is disgusted with you, Blaine. I'm not disgusted with you. You did nothing wrong." He considered wrapping his arms around Blaine and snuggling with him, but then he remembered how Blaine didn't even want to hold his hand. It's not you, Kurt, it's just that he's traumatized. Kurt stood and moved to the door. "Call for me if you need anything. I'm the next room over."

Kurt heard Blaine mutter 'I'm sorry' as he left. He bit his lip and shut the door behind him.

XXX

It was midnight when Kurt awoke to Blaine's screams.

This certainly isn't the best chapter, but at least I made some progress—Blaine isn't in the hospital anymore!

I have another chapter coming very soon. And I already know how the chapter after THAT will go, too.

I assume the next chapter will be from Blaine's P.O.V. again, but I'll let you know if that changes.

(And on a side note, I'm so excited… I ordered myself a pair of Starkid sunglasses and they should be here in a few days! :D)

Please review