"I know who I am and I'm not allowed to show it. It's like Communism."

-Tina

The next day at school, here's what happened:

Kurt was walking down the hallway towards his English class, hurriedly flipping through the parts he didn't read in Animal Farm, when suddenly he felt two sets of hands grab him by both elbows, two burly bodies at either side of him.

"Sup, Kurt," Finn Hudsen said in what could only be a parody of casual. Kurt realized they were dragging him away from his intended direction and towards a school exit.

"Um, where are we going?" he asked, struggling to keep his pace up to par with the long strides of the two boys.

"Oh, we're just goin' for some eats. Care to join us? Fantastic," Noah Puckerman said hurriedly. Kurt noticed that both boys' eyes were wild, and Puck seemed to have a new bruise under his chin.

Here's the funny thing about boys; they had been bred, from birth, to handle things on their own. Most of the time they didn't realize it, because they were too busy, well, handling things. Kurt was probably the only boy in school self-referential enough to acknowledge it.

Got your girlfriend pregnant? Handle it. Guy getting in your face? Handle it. No one ever taught boys how to ask for help. Even Kurt, who most would question his possession of a Y chromo zone to begin with, never really learned it. So boys, when they were in trouble, they usually just ended up in more trouble.

But then some, a rare few, found a way to handle it without getting the shit beat out of them. It was called running. And sometimes there was nothing wrong with it.

It wasn't until they were in Puck's car that Kurt spoke. "I'm missing gym."

"Your welcome," Puck said. Because, really, gym was a nightmare for anyone like Kurt. You didn't even have to be in the same gym class (like Finn was) to know that. Just by looking at the kid, they could tell.

Kurt squinted at Puck, squinted at Finn, who hadn't gotten inside the car but instead stretched out over the opening of the passenger side, because Kurt had been too busy being shoved inside to close the door. "Do I sound like I'm thanking you for anything?"

Puck leans back against the driver's seat, "Do you have any idea what's going on in there?"

Kurt's jaw clenched and he crossed his arms. "If your referring to this 'Kick a Fag' day nonsense, then yes, I'm perfectly aware of what's going on in there."

Finn looked quickly over his shoulder, then back inside the car, at (dainty, fragile) Kurt and (big, mean) Puck. Last year he would have never thought the two would be in the same space, talking sorta-civilly to each other. Fuck, last month it was still a distant possibility. But Finn always had a theory that Puck was a kid that needed something to look out for and even though he'd have sooner cut off his own dick then admit it, he'd always had a soft spot for Kurt.

And Kurt…god. Sometimes Finn wondered how he did it.

If it were him, Finn would have toned it down a long time ago. In his opinion, being different was something for after high school, you know? It's only a little while, and then you can be as flaming as you fucking want, except you don't have to worry about shit like this, shit like a bunch of idiots threatening to beat the crap out of you just because you couldn't tone it down for four goddamn years. Finn wanted to scream at him, is all this worth it? Is your stupid complexion and Marc Jacobs whatever really worth it?

"Those kids," Puck said slowly, as if to a child, "will kill you."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic, Noah."

Puck grinded his teeth (because anyone in the greater central Utah area knew if there was only one thing Puck hated, it was his name). "I really, really don't think your getting this."

"You think I don't know? Why does everyone think I don't know?" Kurt's composure melted like butter, exchanged for irritated fury. "Just because I'm not screaming it from the rooftops doesn't mean I don't know how the world works. I just choose not to hide in a corner."

Puck flung his hands in the air before dropping them heavily on the steering wheel. "How do they say I'm thick headed?"

"Kurt," Finn added, "I talk to these guys. They're not fucking around, okay?"

"I never said they were. Is this an official kidnapping or can I leave?"

Puck plucked at his Mohawk. "Do you just wanna get hit? Is this like a fetish for you or something?"

"Puck, shut the hell up," Finn hissed.

"What?" Puck said. "We're trying to help the little fag and all he's doing is being a fucking bitch. Could you at least," this he directed at Kurt, "stop acting like such a girl for five minutes so me and Finn don't have to spend all our time getting our asses kicked keeping you outta the dumpster?"

"You don't have to. You chose to. You're the ones throwing yourselves into fights that have nothing to do to you because you can't handle not being the center of attention-"

"And what would you do without us, LaBelle? Oh, yeah, you would have had a nice long career as fertilizer."

Kurt kicked the dashboard with such force the car shook. "I can take care of my damn self, Puckerman!"

"No you fucking can't," Puck roared, pounding his fist against the steering wheel (again), "because you are a fucking pansy-ass faggot."

And Finn saw it.

So subtle, so well-concealed that anyone who wasn't looking-really looking-would miss it. The small slump of the shoulders, flash of the eyes, twitch of the lip. Like a flinch, but…less. Less then when Finn tore down all his crap, less then when he was pushed around and slushied. Less and well-concealed. But it was there.

If Finn could see someone's heart breaking, he saw it in Kurt Hummel's eyes.

Kurt had never been offended by Noah Puckerman.

He'd been hit, slapped, shoved, tripped, pushed, thrown and jarred by Puck, but he had never taken any of it to heart. It was nothing personal, because the linebacker didn't know him, didn't know anything about him. He could say all he wanted, but in the end it was just passing jeers based on whatever Kurt had worn that day.

But now they were in glee club together and Puck knew a lot about him, enough to know that he did not like any accusations of weakness-real weakness, the kind where you can't so much as drop a penny without bursting into tears. Puck knew this.

And this is why he was offended by the idiot Puck. Because now they knew each other and Puck, what he said, advanced farther then a single slur and a slushie to the face. He'd took his knife and dug.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said quietly, "my condition is such an inconvenience for you."

"Puck," Finn said softly, like a deflated balloon once full of hot air. No one could be angry anymore. The atmosphere and sucked it all out of them.

Kurt calmly moved past Finn and walked back to school.

Hey, Kurt? It's Mercedes. I just wanted to see how you were doing. I didn't see you after third period, and you weren't in glee today. I saw you leave with Puck and Finn, and ya'll looked kind of…I don't know. Not scared, but…

Just call me, okay?

A/N So I think this story is definitely improving. Perhaps by the time the last chapter rolls around I won't be face palming at my failings as a writer!

This thing is kind of based off this thing that happened in my friends school where these idiots made a face book event called "kick a fag day".

And there are two things you should direct your attention towards. One, a companion/alternate ending for this story called "So Much," when I was gonna have Kurt beaten to death (no worries, the boy lives…for now). It's Burt calling Kurt's phone on the day of his funeral. Also take a peak at m'girl Swing Girl At Heart's series "Expect the Unexpected," basically just a bunch of stories detailing characters doing things they would never do. I'd suggest "Take Me Away" if you never want to listen to "Sweet Caroline", like, ever again.