A/N: My apologies for how long it's taking me to finish this thing! I haven't ditched it, and there are only a few more chapters. Again, thank you to everyone who's commented. I've been meaning to reply to specific comments and haven't yet gotten around to it, because I am a jerk. But I really do appreciate it. Also, to the commenter who noted that there are in fact four football players in Glee, not two: this is a very good point. :) I tend to think of Mike and Matt (??) as "those two other random dudes who got cast to round out the male hamonies," and have never paid them much attention. Fangirl!fail, clearly. Anyway, I apologize for any other stupid errors I may have missed (or may make in the future)... thanks for reading, everyone!

Beating, Ch. 8

At the precise moment that Principal Figgins called Kurt's father to explain to him the many inventive reasons why Mr. Hummel should not sue the school for refusing to allow Kurt to resume attendance there, Kurt woke up to find Puck standing by his bedside.

Puck didn't say hello or offer any greeting, and he didn't blink or look away. It seemed to be his M.O., Kurt thought disjointedly, pushing himself into an upright position. Then:

"Nathan Coffey, Eric McKee, and Hayden Gray."

Kurt stared at him. "What?"

"You asked what I heard. That's what I heard. Nathan, Eric, and Hayden."

"That's..." Kurt closed his eyes, head throbbing. He hadn't been prepared for this. "That's who..."

Puck didn't help him out. Kurt opened his eyes again.

"But Eric always left me alone before," he said. A bit of unspoken subtext: Not like you.

Puck shrugged. "I don't know. He lives up Hayden's way, hitches a ride home from practice with him sometimes. Could've stayed back in the car, maybe. All I heard was he was there."

"There were three sets of cleats."

Puck shrugged again. In a weird way, Kurt was grateful for his casual attitude. He was pretty sure a pitying look would have done him in right about now.

"What am I..." Kurt struggled to focus. He'd been so sure he wanted to know this – no, needed to know this – thinking this would change things somehow, knowing who to fear, or who to hate. But now – so what? Knowing who the three guys were didn't change his fear of every other potential attacker, which in the end meant pretty much everyone who hadn't worked to earn his trust over time. What it meant was having three faces to put to the faceless creatures in his nightmares. What it meant was knowing that a kid like Eric, an ordinary kid who'd always left him alone, could turn around one day and start kicking his spine in. What it meant was three hotspots of terror in a world full of fear.

"Who else knows?" he asked. Who else is protecting them? Who else is letting them get away with it?

"Some of the football team, I guess." Puck shrugged, yet again, and Kurt could tell he was getting uncomfortable. "Not all of them. Joe Cook let on to me the other night."

"Does Finn know?" Kurt absolutely could not stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth.

Puck shook his head. "Doubt it. Joe was drunk or he wouldn't have told me. The only reason the guys talk to me anymore is to score weed, anyway. And half the school thinks Finn's your boyfriend."

"Did you tell..."

Puck tried for a hard look, but he couldn't quite hide the shame in his eyes. "No. Look, Finn's an idiot and he doesn't deserve Quinn, but that doesn't mean I want him killed, for Christ's sake."

Kurt glanced down at his hands, curled around the edge of the blanket. "So they're still in the mood to be killing people, then. Well, best to know now."

"No..." Don't start with the sympathetic tone. Do not do it. I will stay put together until you leave as long as you don't start pitying me now. Puck obliged, barely. "No one's going to give you shit if you come back." Kurt didn't miss the phrasing: if, not when. Well, Puck had never been stupid. "Things have settled down for now, and you've got most of the school in your corner. But I'm not going to stir things up again by talking shit about Finn."

"Good." Then Kurt gathered his courage and looked Puck straight in the eye. "And what about the guys who did it? Nathan, Hayden? Eric?"

"They're not going to mess with you any—"

"No." Kurt's blue eyes had gone gunmetal gray. "What are you going to do about them?"

"Me?" Puck couldn't hide his astonishment. "What the hell are you talking about, what am I going to do about them? You asked me who they were. I told you. That's all –"

"I can go to the police and tell them –"

"The fucking police? Are you demented? You want to start it all up again? Christ!"

"-- tell them you said Joe said they did it, but at third-hand –"

"Don't bring me into this!"

"You're already in it!" The scorn in Kurt's voice snapped like a live wire. "What did you think, I was going to figure 'oh, how wonderful to know all of this, I'll just hide in a locker whenever I see one of them, how kind of Puck to tell me'? They –"

"You asked, I answered. That's –"

"—beat me to a pulp and left me for dead –"

"—shut up, man, that's all I can do!" But Puck was jumpy now, edgy, unable to look Kurt in the face. "It's all I can do," he repeated.

And suddenly Kurt's voice was calm. "No, it isn't. And you know what –" Puck glanced up, found Kurt's gaze trained steady on his face. "You know it, too." Kurt gave it a second. "You're better than this."

No, I'm not, Puck thought. But how could you say that?

And – The thought slipped in unbidden. And what if I am? What then?

They were still silent, Puck struggling for an answer and trying not to read it in Kurt's face, when Kurt's eyes slipped over Puck's shoulder and his face went white.

"What –" Puck glanced back. "Oh, man, are you kidding me?" He turned back to Kurt. "Later. I am definitely not hanging around for this." On his way out the door he gave the guy standing there a hard nudge with his shoulder.

Finn stumbled, then caught himself against the doorjamb. "Hey, Kurt," he said.