A/N Thank you for all lovely reviews!
This chapter is a little...different, so to say. Hope it clears up a lot of stuff! Enjoy
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee

"Yeah, well, that one had a little something special in it..."

"…'Special'…?" Kurt replied, blinking rapidly, staring at Jeff with disbelief. The smile on the blonde's face fell when Kurt stood slowly, eyes wide with horror and face twisted in anger, beet-red. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN 'SPECIAL'!" he exclaimed, voice shaking with rage.

Kurt chucked the empty cup at the blonde teen, who caught it swiftly, though dropping his cigarette onto the ground in the process. His eyes widened. "Kurt, man, ca-" he looked down, remembering the cigarette and crushing it out, and turned back to face the other boy. "C-calm down! We do it to everyone!" He searched Kurt's face worriedly, dropping the empty plastic cup he caught onto a table behind him.

Kurt's eyes darted around the room, a panic-ridden expression consuming his delicate features. He let out a high-pitched, frightened whine and clutched his face in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut. He backed slowly away from Jeff until he felt his body being pressed against the wall behind him. He stood there for a good 20 minutes, watching Jeff walk away from him and talk animatedly to the others, gesturing to him a few times. Kurt wasn't feeling the drugs yet, but he was having a panic-attack simply anticipating what would happen to him soon. Was he going to trip? Or hallucinate? Or black out? What did they give him, anyway?

"What did you fuckers give me, anyway?" He seethed, forcing his words out through clenched teeth, tearing his hands away from his face and hugging himself. At that point, the other drunken inhabitants of the party had formed a loose half-circle around him. Kurt looked up and jumped slightly, seeing their close 't they just been way over there a second ago…?

"You all fucked up yet, bro?" Trent asked with a smirk, waving his hand in front of the other boy's face. Kurt smacked his hand away from his himself with surprising force, causing the bigger teen's smile to drop and take a small step back.

"What the fuck did you give me!"

"Chill, dude! It's just a little LSD…" Thad assured cautiously, putting his hands up in defense as the boy leaned forward to get closer to his face.

"Just…a little…LSD?" Kurt repeated, giving the dark-haired boy a shove and jumping back in surprise when his hands made contact with Thad's chest. His hands felt like they had melted into the other boy's shirt. He held his hands up near his face and inspected them closely. Other than being a little sweaty, nothing seemed out of place. He remembered that he was supposed to be yelling at the other students and snapped his head back up to face them, dropping his hands to his side in fists.

Most of them held a slight smirk, seeming to be amused by his hand self-exam. Blaine, though, looked careful, eyebrow cocked curiously. And Nick looked scared, his eyes continuously darting between Kurt and Thad, who still stood directly in front of him. When Wes let out a small snicker, Kurt turned sharply in his direction.

"You think this is funny? You think drugging someone is FUNNY?" He spat out at the Asian boy, whose smile remained in place, even twitched up slightly, when Kurt got up in his face.

"I – Are you – are you serious? Yes! Yes, I find this extremely funny. When we did this to Blaine, he was absolutely positive that we all wanted to make out with him – and let me tell you, he tried to comply – and then there was Nick trying to enlighten us with his profound epiphany that his cat was his grandfather reincarnated-"

"Don't forget about Jeff and his nakedness-"

"-Yes, yes, and Jeff and his nakedness… The point, Kurt, is that when you mix hallucinogenic drugs with behaviorally-disturbed teenagers, hilarity ensues! ...Kurt…? …Kurt!"

The boy in question stood, mouth agape, eyes wide and rapidly dilating, transfixed on a spot behind the group of students. At the call of his name the second time, he closed his mouth, his face returning to its previous, irate expression. "You think that's funny, too?" He pointed to the wall behind them shakily, swaying slightly when his sudden movement threw off his balance. "Trying to fuck with me even more? Well, it's not working. I know it's you guys doing that."

David took a quick glance behind them and saw nothing taking place. Quirking an eyebrow, he turned to face the hysteric boy. "Kurt, what are you-?"

"The little dots all over the walls, David." Kurt gestured messily around himself to the other walls where tiny dots started flashing in front of his eyes. A look of sudden thought fell over his face and his head shot up, scanning the ceiling quickly. "How the hell are you doing that, anyway? Is it like a projector, or something?"

Trent let out a small chuckle, smirking along with the other boys, aside from Blaine, who was watching the pale boy closely, David, who now looked thoroughly confused, inspecting the wall behind Kurt curiously, and Nick, who still looked slightly frightened of Kurt.

David, realizing what Kurt was referring to, let out a small laugh and faced the boy. "Those are the holes in the soundproofing tiles, Kurt… They're just there to help the acoustics in the roo-"

"I KNOW WHAT SOUNDPROOFING IS!" Kurt let out in a huff, spinning around abruptly to eye the wall behind him critically, bringing his hand up to run long, slow strokes down the surface, watching as the tiny holes in the tiles seemed to vibrate before his eyes. As he increased his pace slightly, his eyes widened, and he let out a sharp gasp, figuring the quicker he touched the wall, the more the dots pulsated.

Behind him, Jeff giggled, sitting down on a nearby couch. "Okay, yeah, this is always funny… When you're not the one enthusiastically caressing a wall, anyway."

Trent nodded eagerly in agreement, laughing as Kurt's hand drifted from the wall to a nearby table where a few cups of beer and empty shot glasses sat next to a bottle of vodka. He traced his finger around the rim of a shot glass and then moved to carefully pick up a cup of beer. He held it under his nose and stared into it, eyes widening in amazement. "The beer is, like, bubbling all…intense and stuff…" He trailed off, attention still captured by the fizzing drink, the foam seeming as though it was erupting and pulsing in waves.

"Er – I think Kurt is right, guys! More alcohol!" Blaine exclaimed suddenly, pointing into the air excitedly. He was glad the young boy seemed to have accepted the drug, at least somewhat, and had stopped screaming at them…

The group walked to the table Kurt was standing next to and each collected shot glasses. Pouring a shot of vodka for each of the boys, minus Kurt, who was still content gazing idly into his beer, Thad held up his small glass triumphantly. "To Kurt! My freakin' psycho-killer roommate!" And he flicked his glass up and nodded, the rest of the boys following suit.

"To Kurt!" They all chorused and threw their shots back, slamming the glasses down when they finished.

The boy in question jumped at the sound of the glasses meeting the table, but shook his head, clearing his thoughts about the ridiculously bubbly beer, and actually took a sip of it, eyes flying to the other side of the room where the iPod sat. "C-can I-?" He pointed to the small device, directing the question at Blaine. The curly-haired boy cocked an eyebrow and smiled at the Kurt he saw before him, loose and still slightly confused, and nodded, watching the boy walking away and shamelessly staring at his ass in those tight, tight jeans.

Blaine sighed, shaking his head, and picked up an empty plastic cup. He snatched the bottle of vodka from Wes as the boy was pouring himself a shot and tipped it over the cup, filling it to about two inches.

"Rude, Blaine. Very, very rude." The Asian boy clicked his tongue in exaggerated-disapproval and seized the bottle, abandoning his shot glass altogether and taking a swift swig out of the bottle. His eyes wandered to where Nick sat observing Kurt, who was now giggling endlessly at the screen of the iPod, with narrowed eyes. "What's wrong with you, Nick?" He asked, eyeing the boy.

Nick opened his mouth and closed it again, looking thoughtful before responding. "…Don't you think it was kind of a bad idea to give Kurt that stuff? I mean because of his sketchy past and everything…" He mused, not taking his eyes off the young boy on the other side of the room.

"I told you already that I don't think he's dangerous-"

"You also said you thought he was gonna bound you in your sleep and torture you…" Nick spoke in a monotone, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah, I guess I was a little cautious of him last night, but all that did was prove my point that he's not dangerous." Thad shrugged, making his way to the other side of the room where the biggest couch sat. "Besides, you heard him in group this morning. He didn't seem like some of the guys here that try to pick fights and are quick to get violent."

"Now, why would your father do something like that on purpose?" Ms. Webber's voice was calm and careful. She let the clipboard she held in her hands fall to her lap.

"…I dunno. Because he fucking hates me." A boy with short, wavy brown hair – Stephen, Kurt remembered – replied curtly.

"What gives you reason to believe your father hates you?"

The boy huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, facing away from the woman with a defiant frown. The teacher nodded thoughtfully as she scribbled something on her clipboard, then placed it on her lap and faced the group of boys. She noticed Kurt playing idly with a strand of his damp hair, eyes focused on the ground.

"Mr. Hummel?"

The boy blinked a few times and his hand dropped from his head, sitting up slightly to face the woman. "Hmm?"

"What about you? You're the only one who hasn't spoken today... Would you like to share something?" She searched the young boy's face, noticing the emotions flickering over his features. He seemed unsure of himself, but nodded slightly.

"Yeah, okay…"

The woman nodded slowly, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, she cleared her throat briefly. "What would you like to share?" The boy's face scrunched up in confusion, not having prepared anything to say. "How was your first night here?" She suggested gently. The boy simply shrugged in response, his hands closing around himself.

"He didn't sleep that much." Thad offered casually when Kurt didn't reply.

"…Miss home…? Sleeping in your own bed and seeing your family…?" The teacher guessed and nodded understandingly, noticing the young boy's lips twitch up slightly as he thought of home. Almost instantly, his smile fell and was replaced with a hurt expression. "How are things with your family, Kurt?" Blaine noticed the pale boy stiffen at this question, this obviously a sore spot. Kurt sighed, shrugging lightly with one shoulder.

"…Nonexistent… I mean, I haven't even really talked to any of them since the… Since I got arrested. Especially my dad. My dad – he's so disappointed in me... He says I've ruined my life, and that he can't be around me yet. I know he still loves me, but…" Kurt nodded, keeping his face down, the wounded expression growing.

"Are you angry at your father for keeping his distance from you?"

"…No. No, I…understand, I just wish… I mean – after everything – I just thought…" A conflicted look fell over his face. "B-but no, I'm not angry at him…"

"…Do you think you've ruined your life, Kurt…? Are you angry that you ended up here?"

He opened his mouth and closed it again, his eyebrows furrowing together. "I – No… No, I'm not angry. Frustrated, maybe… Definitely sad that my life didn't follow the path I thought it would… But not angry."

The lot settled around a sofa, which was near the piano, all now turning to face Kurt. He stared at the mp3-player with intent eyes, brow furrowing in concentration. He seemed to press play on the device, for the song shifted, resulting in a slow, dirty rap song to fill the room. Kurt scrunched up his nose in disgust and shook his head violently, stopping the music altogether and continuing to skim through the songs.

"I don't think we have anything to be worried about." Jeff smiled, taking in Kurt's very contemplative face.

"Yeah, I mean, Kurt might have killed someone, but we don't know his full story behind it. Besides, he seems like a generally…nonviolent person, so I'm sure everything will be fine."

Two hours later found Kurt sprawled on his back with a huge smile on his face, his trip at its peak. He stretched his hands up towards the ceiling, wiggling his fingers to the beat of the melody and taking special note in the complexity of his joints. The song changed and his eyes fluttered closed and he let out a hum of appreciation, but continued his ramble.

"-and it's like all our lives are, are us going place to place to do things. Like we all have our little routines, you know?" He giggled, opening his eyes and sitting up to face the boys who were sitting around him on the ground. Blaine hummed in agreement absently, busy lighting another cigarette. Kurt stared at this action, mesmerized, until the chorus of the song started, capturing his attention.

As faint patterns of colored light danced in front of his eyes in time with the music, he reached out to grab them, an expression of amusement mixed with wonder gracing his face. He fell back onto his back, still lazily grabbing at the air in front of him.

David laughed, thoroughly more wasted along with the others, and looked down at Kurt. "Man, what're you doin'?" He slurred, leaning forward slightly and having to balance himself with his hand.

Kurt laughed, his arms falling above his head onto the ground, and shut his eyes. "The…music, it's just so… captivating."

The boys all laughed messily, the ones with cigarettes letting out small puffs of smoke as they did so. Kurt giggled in response, stretching his arms further past his head, relishing in his hyperactive senses and trying not to be bothered by the suffocating amount of smoke in the air.

Blaine noticed Kurt's shirt ride up as he stretched, revealing a few inches of his milky white, toned abdomen. In his less than sober state, he stumbled from his sitting position onto his stomach and reached out to touch the exposed skin, resting his head on his other hand. Kurt jumped slightly, but then hummed in response, his hand enclosing over the one on his stomach. "Fuck, Kurt… Fuck, you're so hot... You know that, right?" Blaine mumbled around his cigarette, his droopy eyes raking over the pale boy's body.

Kurt chuckled quietly, vibrations emanating through his skin. "That feels nice," he muttered, watching as Blaine stroked his stomach idly. The other boys laughed, watching Blaine's drunken affections and Kurt's acid-induced physical response. The music shifted to a booming dance song, resulting in a few cheers and encouraging sounds from the boys.

"Fuck yeah! Shit, that's what I'm talking about! This song is awesome!"

The boys all ended up dancing along to the songs in Blaine's 'House Music' playlist, all heavily intoxicated, pumping along to the beat. Kurt was having an out-of-body experience. The music made shapes in the air around him and the body heat of the boys around him was unreal. It felt like the entire room was pulsating together, moving and throbbing as a whole unit. He felt a pair of rough hands grab his hips from behind and he twisted his head around sharply, finding a sloppy-looking Blaine with his eyes closed, grinding against Kurt to the beat.

At Kurt's stalled movement, Blaine opened his eyes and, seeing the pale boy's blushing, quizzical face, smiled. "Dance with me," he whispered, his grip on Kurt's hips tightening, forcing him back into movement.

"I've never really danced with anyone before." Kurt admitted softly with a smile on his face, jumping back into rhythm and letting the sensations take over him. He closed his eyes and faced forward again, letting his head fall back onto Blaine's shoulder, enjoying the feeling of another body pressed against him. Blaine chuckled, nuzzling against Kurt's neck.

"Just relax…"

"Just relax," the man sneered, curling a finger under Kurt's chin to make the boy face him. "Such a pretty little face…" He laughed then, and snatched his hand away from Kurt. "Flip him over." The man grinned devilishly, revealing the large gap in his smile between his front tooth and canine where one had fallen out. The air was filled with the sound of the young boy's muffled cries, the quiet zipping of the man taking his pants off, and the constant boom! boom! boom! of the music radiating from the club.

"Please! Oh God, please! Don't do this!" He mumbled around the material they shoved in his mouth. The man holding his shoulders down smacked him swiftly in the face, causing him to let out a strangled whimper and squeeze his eyes shut.

"Don't fucking talk, faggot."

"Kurt! Kurt!" The boy's eyes flew open to reveal himself crouched on the ground against a wall, breathing heavily and clutching himself hysterically. He looked up to see the boys all standing around him and Jeff kneeling down, looking at his cautiously. "Are you okay?" Kurt nodded frantically, standing up and moving to walk towards the couch, but Jeff pushed against his shoulders, resulting in him hitting the wall with a dull thud. "I think you should cool down for a little. Just stay where you are."

Two hands pushed against his shoulders and he heard the sound of his naked back hitting the wall of lockers. "Don't move, Hummel." The jock opened his locker next to where Kurt was standing, teary-eyed and still, keeping a hand on his chest to keep him in place, and pulled out a T-shirt.

He suddenly lunged at the boy's wrists and gripped them in a deathly tight hold in one hand. With the other, he wrapped the shirt around the boy's mouth, silencing his hoarse whimpers. Kurt clamped his eyes shut, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. No. This isn't happening. Not again.

With his free hand, the jock yanked Kurt's pants and boxer-briefs down, leaving them hanging loose around his ankles. He started eagerly massaging the boy's crotch, moaning and breathing heavily as he did so, pressing his already hard cock against Kurt's hip. When Kurt's penis gave no response to the touching, the jock grabbed it roughly, squeezing it with a painfully tight grip and trying to stroke. Kurt let out a strangled sob, choking on the shirt in his mouth. With still no reaction, the meaty teen dropped hold of Kurt's cock and began unzipping his pants.

Kurt's eyes opened and darted around the room, eyeing the small pocketknife sitting in the jock's open locker, calling to him. Noticing the other boy's attention was elsewhere, he ripped away from his grasp and grabbed the tool, flicking open the main knife in a matter of seconds and plunging it into the boy's chest.

"-touch me! Don't touch me! Don't touch me!" Kurt realized suddenly that it was his voice he was hearing scream out in a desperate wail. He looked around him. He wasn't in the locker room anymore, no. He was in the Arts Building. He was surrounded by seven other boys who were all crouching around him trying to get him to calm down. He stopped screaming and shakily took in a deep, panting breath.

"Whoa, Kurt. What the fuck is going on?" David asked from right in front of him, searching the boy's face with wide, frightened eyes. When Kurt gave no response, he swiftly stood up and offered him a hand, bringing him to a standing position as well. The group of boys made their way to the couch they were sitting around earlier, near the piano.

Kurt, still breathing heavily, ran a hand over his face with a shaky hand, feeling hot wet liquid. He assumed it was sweat, but when he brought it down to inspect, he found blood. Massive amounts of blood. Oozing and pouring down between his fingers. He let out an ear-splitting cry, turning his face sideways and pushing his arms out away from him, trying to get the furthest distance away possible from his bloody hands.

"What the fuck?" Someone demanded, placing a hand on his shoulder and trying to still his frantic squirming.

"The blood! Oh God, the blood!" He cried, folding in on himself, but still keeping his hands at a distance.

"…What the fuck is he talking about…?"

The boy let out a surprised shriek, falling down onto the floor and clutching the spot on his body where the knife had made contact. "WHAT THE FUCK, HUMMEL!" Kurt stood, white as a ghost and holding the guilty knife in his hand, watching as a single drop of blood fell from it, onto the ground. He looked at the repulsive tool and dropped it, a loud clank! sounding throughout the room as it clattered to the floor.

"Oh my god… Dave, I-"

"Get the fuck outta here, faggot!"

"I'm done with him if you guys are... Now get the fuck outta here, faggot." The man kicked him in the stomach and turned to go, but not without flashing his gapped smile one last time.

Before Kurt knew what was happening, he was hunched over the jock, the knife attached to his chest once again, blood flowing down over his fingers and onto the hard ground beneath them.

"YOU USED ME! YOU TOOK AWAY EVERYTHING I HAD AND RAPED ME!" He pulled the knife out again and stabbed him again, causing the boy to cry out in pain and he tried to struggle.

"Stop! I didn't rape you!" Karofsky choked out, a couple drops of blood splattering out of his mouth as he coughed, still trying to push the smaller boy away, but to no avail as Kurt continued pushing the knife into his body repeatedly.

"I WAS A VIRGIN AND YOU DRAGGED ME INTO THAT ALLEY AND STOLE EVERYTHING FROM ME! YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS! YOU RAPED ME AGAIN AND AGAIN AND… And…and..." He trailed off and sobbed, pulling his hands away from the other boy and dropping the knife. He tore away from him and faced the door, only to come to a sudden halt at seeing another jock, wearing the same red letterman jacket, staring at the blood on Kurt's hands and the lifeless body behind him with a frozen expression of horror on his face.

Suddenly realizing what he did, Kurt turned to face Karofsky, seeing his body emptying its blood and no longer moving up and down with breaths. He looked down at his hands, dripping with dark blood. In his mind, he knew that it was David Karofsky he had just killed. That it wasn't David Karofsky that had raped him months ago in that alley behind that club. That he should have stopped and ran when he first got the chance.

But when he looked down at the motionless face of the boy who repeatedly sexually assaulted him, he also saw the man. The man with the stringy black hair and gap tooth smirk who held him against his will and stole his innocence.

"Kurt! Stop! What are you doing?" Wes's voice sounded from somewhere. Kurt felt a hard, flat surface against his face, and tasted the salty tears that rolled down his face and past his lips. He shot his eyes open, seeing the vibrating dots from before. He pulled away from the wall slightly and turned to see Wes, David, and Blaine each very close to him, reeking of alcohol.

"Okay, Kurt," Blaine started, looking very cautious and speaking slowly and carefully. "You're safe, okay? I think you're having flashbacks. Just calm down, alright? You're just having a bad trip." He placed a hesitant hand on Kurt's shoulder and tried to lead him to where the others sat around the couch, looking wary of him and his outburst.

Kurt looked down to his hands, noting the blood he thought he saw before was gone. The room was spinning slightly, due to his intoxication, or his LSD, or his current mental instability, he wasn't sure. The music was still blasting in the background, replaying the 'House Music' playlist.

boom! boom! boom!

He caught a reflection of himself in a passing window and gasped. His face looked distorted, his features grossly exaggerated and sickly looking. He stepped towards it slowly, placing his hands against the cool glass, trying to look more closely at himself.

"Kurt… Come on, Kurt. Let's go sit down." Blaine's concerned voice was coming from somewhere behind him, but he couldn't be bothered by that now.

His eyes looked twice their normal size and his mouth was bright red. He stepped closer to the mirror-like glass and jumped back as his reflection shifted and contorted with his movement. He moved side to side and up and down, studying his reflection with disturbed concentration. He opened his mouth and screamed, flying away from the window and tumbling back onto the ground.

"Kurt! Come on, let's go-"

But Kurt pushed Blaine away forcibly and flung himself back onto his feet, peeking with horror at the reflection before him once again. He stared at his mouth, looking with revulsion and shock to see a gap in his bite between his front and canine tooth. "No…" He whispered, staring at the window, his features all distorting, panic flooding through his body. "No! This isn't real! This can't be happening!" Kurt screeched, pushing Blaine away when the curly-haired boy tried to pull him away from the window.

"Kurt you're just tripping! Calm down, it's just the drugs!"

"No! NO!" He looked into the window to see his reflection beginning to come into focus, only to reveal a sickeningly familiar man with limp black hair and a dangerous smirk. Gap and all.

boom! boom! boom!

The man grabbed his hips feverishly and lined his cock up against Kurt's entrance. Without warning, he thrust into the young boy roughly, letting out a sickening hiss of pleasure and shuddering slightly. "Fuck. A tight little fag." Kurt sobbed silently, his face grinding into the pavement each time his body heaved. That was it. That was him losing his virginity. "Take it like the little slut you are."

He let out a piercing scream and punched through the window, resulting in the glass breaking with a loud shatter and falling over his body.

"Kurt!" Blaine screamed, dragging the boy who had fallen beneath the shards to a sitting position. The breaking of the window and Blaine's scream had gotten the attention of the other boys, who now all huddled around a restless Kurt, who was fighting and struggling against their restraint. His body shook uncontrollably with sobs, heaving violently. Tiny specks of blood were visible on his face and neck from where the shards of glass cut him.

"No-o-o-o!" He sobbed brokenly, trying to push the boys' hands away from his body with no success. "I h-have to d-do it! I have to k-kill him!" He choked out, gasping for breath between sobs.

The group of boys, feeling suddenly more sober as their bodies flooded with adrenalin, shared some nervous glances. Nick, who was trying to hold down Kurt's left shoulder, shot a glare at Thad. "Oh yeah, totally not dangerous." He spat out, pushing down harder when the pale boy tried to break free from his grasp.

"Shut up. He's having a bad trip. I couldn't have known this was gonna happen." Thad replied, watching over Blaine's shoulder at the boy's face. Jeff, who was holding down Kurt's other shoulder, looked over to where the shattered glass lay, near Kurt's feet, and quirked an eyebrow, confused at the boy's actions.

While Jeff's attention was elsewhere, Kurt broke free from his grasp and managed to reach down to where the shards lay and grab a long, triangular piece of glass. David, who was near his feet, tried to snatch it away from the boy, but only ended up giving him enough freedom to bolt up to his feet.

The boys all shot up and turned towards him but came to a halt as Kurt held the sharp side of the glass towards his chest, threateningly. His chest heaved another sob and more tears rolled down his cheeks as he backed up against the wall behind him.

"Kurt… Kurt, put that down." Wes put one hand up cautiously, trying to take a small step towards the boy.

boom! boom! boom! The music still rung throughout the room.

"NO! I have to d-do it! It was me all along! He – he's a part of me… If I kill myself, he'll die!" Kurt sobbed, bringing the sharp object from his chest up towards his neck. He took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, looking like he was about to plunge it into himself.

"Stop! Kurt! Give it to me!" David stepped forward, offering his hand, palm-up. When the boy remained still, he took another step forward, hand still raised. "Kurt… Please, this is just the drugs talking. Just give me the glass…" Kurt forced one eye open and eyed the hand in front of him and then shifted his gaze to David's face. "Kurt… Please."

"You have no idea what it's like, David. He raped me. He raped me and I – I killed someone else! I killed someone else because of him! I have to kill him!" He screeched, pressing the glass tip into his neck lightly, fresh tears pooling in his eyes. David, stunned at the information he heard, tried to keep a calm face and nodded slowly.

"Okay… Okay, Kurt. But – but, stabbing yourself isn't going to-"

"Yes! Yes, it will! I have to kill myself to kill him!"

"Kurt, please," Blaine's voice sounded next to David. Kurt's eyes flew to the curly-haired boy, taking in his worry-ridden expression. Kurt shook his head wearily as the boy approached him. "You're not going to kill the man who raped you if you stab yourself... You won't do anything but get hurt…" Kurt shook his head violently and let out a strangled sob and Blaine stepped closer to him.

"N-no, Blaine! You don't know!" He cried, body shaking with sobs again. Blaine cautiously stepped up to the young boy and placed his arms around his shoulders from the side, holding him close and trying to control his trembling body.

"Shh, shh." He pulled Kurt closer and held him with a troubled look on his face. Blaine nodded slowly. "I know, I know."

"N-n-n-o-o-o!" Kurt sobbed, the sound muffled as he dug his face into the curly-haired boy's arm, his weapon-wielding hand pinned against his chest.

boom! boom! boom!

"I know…I know…" Blaine murmured, eyeing the piece of glass in the other boy's hand intently. When Kurt continued to cry into his arm, Blaine reached around with his other hand and tried to slip it out of the boy's grasp.

"NO!" Kurt wailed suddenly, gripping the glass tighter as Blaine tried to snatch it from him. On instinctual impulse, he swiped the shard against the other boy, cutting him cleanly on the shoulder. Blaine let out a sharp cry and clutched his wound. The other boys approached the two then, Wes and David surrounding Blaine and the other four going towards Kurt, but before they could do anything, he plunged the sharp glass into his side, letting out a harsh breath and falling forward onto his knees.

"HOLY SHIT!" Jeff exclaimed, kneeling down beside him with Trent, Nick and Thad.

Eyes darting between Blaine and Kurt, David spoke to his friend with rushed anxiety. "Blaine, are you okay?"

"Yes! Damn it, I'm fine! Go help him!" He replied, hand still pressed against the slice on his right shoulder. Wes peeled his hand away and began examining the wound.

David pushed the others away from Kurt and kneeled in front of him. Jeff was chanting 'Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,' and standing behind the dark-skinned boy as he tried to figure out what to do. He ripped the Kurt's hand away from where it still clutch the weapon in his side and inspected it closely. It doesn't look too deep… Hoping he was right and making the right decision, he carefully removed the bloodied glass and placed it on the ground, causing a loud yelp to leave the injured boy's lips. He frantically unbuttoned Kurt's shirt and tried to access the severity of the wound. It didn't look very deep at all, and seemed to have hit one of his ribs instead of sinking very deep into his body.

He ripped his own shirt off swiftly and pressed it onto the stab-wound, resulting in a Kurt wincing violently. David put strong pressure on the boy's side and, seeing as the blood didn't soak through his shirt after a couple minutes, he figured the bleeding wasn't too serious. Kurt was shaking harshly, eyes open and unfocused in shock. After a few more minutes of holding his shirt onto the wound, David let out a sigh of relief. The tension in the air seemed to dissipate slightly after that. It seemed the boys were waiting for his assessment to breath. David glanced up to where Wes was dabbing the blood from Blaine's arm.

"You alright, B?" He questioned the boy, eyeing the cut and seeing it not very deep.

"I'm fine. It doesn't even need stitches… Um… Is he…?" He trailed off, pointing to Kurt lying on his back and slowly calming down from his trembling. David sighed and pulled the shirt away meekly. Seeing the bleeding had subsided, he removed it entirely and faced his two best friends.

"I think, yeah. It didn't bleed too much, so… But I don't know if we should take him to the medical wing, anyway... Would he get expelled for dropping acid? Because they would find it in his system if we took him now."

"Well it needs to be cleaned and stuff." Trent said, looking at the bloody piece of glass lying next to Kurt with narrowed eyes. "It could get infected, right?"

Nick nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah. But, we have all that stuff in our room, don't we? In the issued First Aid kits they give us? We could sterilize it and bandage him up and if it gets bad, we can take him later, when the LSD's out of his body."

"Because, let's face it. He's gonna tell them that we drugged him. And then we're gonna be fucked, not him. So I say we do what Nick said." Thad offered, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing the other boys for their reaction.

"Yeah." Jeff replied immediately, nodding at the dark-haired boy.

"I guess…" Trent added, eyes still fixed on the piece of bloody glass.

"I agree with Thad. We'd be the ones getting expelled, and personally, I don't want to go to juvie." Wes said honestly, shrugging his shoulders when Blaine gave him a small glare. "What? Do you want to go to juvie?" The curly-haired boy sighed.

"Well, no, but-"

"I wouldn't tell them you guys drugged me." Kurt spoke suddenly, alarming the occupants of the room. They all stared at him silently with varying looks of puzzlement. "I mean, all – what? Six, seven – of you guys go off to juvie verses just me?" He shook his head slowly, letting his eyes fall shut. "I wouldn't do that," he whispered, eyes still closed. "But either way, I think I'm fine to just go back to the dorms. And David," he opened his eyes and looked at the boy in front of him. "Your tattoo is, like, flying right at me." He giggled the last part softly.

David looked down to his left shoulder area where the simple black, Chinese-style dragon tattoo wrapped around his upper arm and ended on his pec, where the dragon's face was facing forward. He nodded and looked back to Kurt's face. "Let's get you back to your room."

Kurt woke up feeling like someone was punching him in the face, repeatedly. Realizing it was only a headache, he very slowly opened one eye. The room was filled with light and Kurt had to think for a second before realizing he was in his dorm room. He turned to the side to see if Thad was there, but winced immediately, only then remembering his wound. He let out a soft moan.

Thad sat up in his bed where he lounged, reading, and turned to face Kurt, seeing he was awake. "Oh," he said, standing and walking to Kurt's bed and sitting on the edge of it. "How are you feeling?" He eyed the boy's bandaged torso and then shifted his gaze to his face.

"I'm an idiot," was all Kurt breathed in reply, letting his eyes fall shut.

"…What?"

"I just – I'm such an idiot… I'm sorry for completely fucking up the party last night. You guys do it to everyone and I just freaked the fuck out and-"

"No, Kurt. We…probably shouldn't have drugged someone with PTSD…" Thad said carefully, watching Kurt's face for a reaction. The young boy looked shocked, but as he opened his mouth to talk, Thad cut him off by raising his hand. "I saw the papers in your bag where they gave you a mental assessment…"

"…You went through my stuff?" Kurt looked more surprised than angry. Thad nodded slowly and turned to grab something off the table next to Kurt's bed. He held it up. It was Kurt's iPhone.

"I charged your phone, too. You have, like, 218 new text messages…?" He trailed off, handing the young boy his phone, who took it and placed it on his lap without looking at the screen.

"Yeah… I was in jail for three months before my trial, so…" He shrugged, glancing down at the screen briefly and running his hands over the shiny, black plastic. "It's gonna be weird trying to, like, talk to everyone again. Like, updating them about all the things they missed in my life, and all the things I missed." He shrugged again and put the phone down to face Thad. "Thad… You and the other guys, thanks for taking care of me last night…" He said quietly, glancing sideways at his roommate.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah, I know, man. We know. We're just glad your trip ended and you don't think you need to kill yourself in order to kill someone else, anymore…" He said with a slight smile. Kurt nodded with his own small, sad, smile.

"It was so weird. It was like, I was so sure that if I killed myself, the guy who… raped me… would die too." Kurt spoke, looking down at his hands in his lap and absently stroking his phone with his thumb. "But I think there was a part of me that wanted to kill myself… to just kill me, too.

A/N Yeaaahh... So a couple things.
1) Hope what happened to Kurt was clear enough to understand. Basically, he was raped by a gang of guys and then suffered PTSD and stabbed Karofsky during an break down while he was being molested, thus explaining why he was let off from full charges of murder, but not cleared because it wasn't a black and white self-defense situation
2) My odd acid-trip story. Kurt's experience was actually 100% based off stories I've heard first hand (Not exactly the stabbing yourself part, but trying to attack people/yourself). Unfortunately, even having scary flashbacks :(

Anywho! Long A/N! Next chapter will be up soon!