A/N: This work was originally done by the magnificant michallev, but he couldn't continue this so I decided to. I know it won't be as good as his, but please at least respect it. ^^" Thank you and enjoy!

PS: Please review or I will have no motivation to writing more. :/

The two men walked into the house slowly. Will Schue's heart was racing, worried about how this conversation would go. How could this father--the father who wasn't sure how to handle the fact that his son was gay--handle such a thing? How could he not go into a state of shock after hearing it? The man mulled over these questions until the were seated in the living room with the TV on a low volume. Burt had apparently turned down the sound to hear if Kurt was home or not, and running out the exact moment he did. Normally the boy came home at 4:30 or so after Glee club had been dissmissed, and here it was an hour later. Needless to say it was obvious Burt was worried.

They settled into opposite seating, Burt in an armchair and Will on a couch. They stared at each other before with a long silence, Will not knowing how to begin and Burt waiting for the man to say something. He couldn't think of theright words to use. "Your son was abused." That was very blunt and this situation had to be taken lightly so as to not douse the wound with anything more painful than what was already happening. The weather outside wasn't helping in the least, although it seemed fitting to the circumstances. A dreary day for dreadful words.

"I'm not sure how to begin," admitted Will, sighing. He ran his fingers through his hair.

"Just begin with Friday. He came home...with a black eye and a few bruises on his face, looking really damaged. Then he vomited. I thought maybe the flu or something, and that maybe he was dizzy and fell and hit something, but it all seemed too..."

"Coincidental? Unrealistically improbable?"

"Uh, yeah."

"I heard that your son was....abused. Perhaps sexually abused, but I'm not for certain. He's seemed extremely hesistant to touch anyone or get really that close to anyone lately. He also yelled at Rachel Berry and shoved her. It's a long story, but that's the gist of what happened at Glee. I figured that...well...being...abused would have those emotional affects on somebody. He has been out of it quite a lot lately. I'm worried for his well being. If we don't confront him soon..."

By that time Burt had already entered a state of utter shock. He laid back in the chair, eyes as wide as dinner plates and mouth agape. Will instantly felt horrible for having said anything, but it had to be done. It had to be made right. Kurt deserved that much.

"Oh God... Oh my God..." His horrified face was set unmoving, his eyes not blinking. "I knew it...I knew something was wrong. He wouldn't tell me...but I knew." He was sprouting nonsense. Will stood to his feet and walked over to Mr. Hummel, placing a hand on his shoulder. The man didn't react at all, he just sat there eerily unmoving.

"Something needs to be done about this, but you needed to know....It isn't right to keep things locked up like this. We need to talk to your son. Who knows what might happen if it goes untreated..." Hopefully the boy's mental state wasn't borderline madeness. That was what scared Will the most: if Kurt became depressed, paranoid... Anything could happen at this point.

Kurt had heard the mumbling in the living room after changing into a nice, warm bathrobe and pajama pants that had been bought for him as a gift. His eyes were sore from all the tears and he felt like someone had filed him with lead. His feet shuffled against the floor slowly. His heart--the slow rythmic beating that echoed in his ears--stopped for a moment when he heard a little bit of their conversation. "...It isn't right to keep things locked up like this. We need to talk to your son. Who knows what might happen if it goes untreated..." Kurt felt his knees lock and his swayed in his stance. He clung to the wall and slid down it, his knees up to his chin. He listened. His heart was sinking every second a single word was uttered. How could Mr. Schue have known? Who told him...?

Of course Kurt knew the answer. Of course it was Finn. He sweared though! He sweared on the life of the unborn baby that he thought was his! He trusted Finn with everything in him. He felt backstabbed, betrayed, angry, and heartbroken. Didn't his promise mean anything...? Kurt knew something at that moment: You can never trust anyone. Not with your secrets, not with your feelings, not with their promises. You can't ever trust anyone for anything. Only you can trust yourself. Kurt should've known. How could he? Kurt should've known....

He staggered towards the entrance of the living room. The men saw him and Burt jumped up to hug him as tightly as he could without hurting him. It was contact. Kurt flinched, but allowed his father to hug him. His arms were like dead weights on his sides, so he couldn't lift them up to hug him. He was too tired, too defeated to do anything that required much physical exertion. Burt pulled away when Kurt didn't respond, just standing motionless.

"How dare you," croaked Kurt to Mr. Schue. "...I bet Finn told you..."

"Kurt, it was the right thing to do..."

"NO!" The boy shouted with some of the last bit of energy he had. "It wasn't! He swore! This is my burden and mine alone! I can handle myself..." Kurt staggered backwards, and his knees locked, causing him to fall on the hardwood flooring. He landed on his butt and caught himself with his hands. Pain shot through his body upon impact. He mouthed the word "Ow", his face distorted into an unfamiliar expression. He wouldn't be able to get up. He was all over in pain once more, after jarring himself just a little with a small sort of bump against the floor. Burt rushed over and gently picked up the boy into a bridal style fashion, his eyes closing and...then all was black.

The next morning Kurt awoke to the bright sunlight outside his window. He blinked several times. His eyes were sore and dry after a day of crying and days of misery. He didn't want to move a muscle because every single part of him ached. But somehow he brought himself to get out of the bed and trudge over to his vanity and sat down--slowly and gently--onto the stool provided. He stared at himself. The bruises on his face were turning yellow and slightly more attractive than they had been. He also took a moment to examine other parts of his body such as his rib cage and his stomach. And there it was....the word. That word that turned him to ice the second he heard even a breath of it. "Fag". He remembered it. It came violently rushing back to his brain, the sounds, the laughter, the touching, the pain, all of it. Kurt felt that nauseusness return, and he ran for the bathroon and dry heaved.

That was right...he hadn't ate in days. He had some crackers and water his dad made him eat yesterday even though Kurt begged just to have the water, but his father was stubborn. He needed some sort of nourishment. Kurt kept dry heaving until he was tired and slumped back onto the floor. No, he was not going to cry again. His eyes were still burning from yesterday and the day before that...

He stood to his feet, an accomplishment that was usually something quick and easy to do, but now was like a curse. He didn't want to have anything to do with anyone anymore it seemed. Not his father, not Mr. Schue, not Mercedes, not Tina, not Artie, not Brittany, not Santana, not Mike, not Quinn, not Puck (he never wanted anything to do with him anyways), not Rachel (again, he never wanted anything to do with her either), and definately not Finn. He hated Finn. Finn told. Finn lied.... He was never going to keep his promise in the first place.

"Kurt, you're awake." His father was at the door of Kurt's personal bathroom looking concerned. Kurt turned away from him. He knew. He knew Kurt's sins. How dirty he was...to be beaten and assaulted like that....his son was dirty. "Go back to bed. I've asked Figgins to give you a week off, and more if you...need it."

"No. I'm going to school." He had to get out of that house. He had to try to begin his life...he had to try. He didn't care if he didn't have any friends....they were all going to work for him one day anyways. "You can't stop me."

Kurt coldly walked by his father. Burt was in a state of disbelief. His son was determined to go to school when he was in pain and looked like a train wreck. Kurt sat duitifully at his vanity and begin to dab his face with a light, sheer powder to hide his problem areas and redness.

"Kurt, it's 1 o'clock. School is about over."

Kurt looked at his bedside clock. There it was...it said 1:00 PM. He had slept for.....17 hours? That was most of a day! Kurt knew he felt terrible, but he figured it was because of his wounds. Rather it was because he had slept so much.

"Damn. Why'd you let me sleep so long?" Kurt glared at his father.

"...you need sleep, son."

"17 hours is plenty. I won't miss practice, anyways."

"No. You're not going."

"I AM GOING." Kurt readied his makeup, lining his eyes ever so lightly. Burt went over to him and jerked the makeup from Kurt's hands. "Give it back!"

"You're not going anywhere. You need to rest." Burt's face was as hard as stone. Kurt was feeling uncharacteristically rebellious and angry.

"I don't need to sleep! I've had enough!" And everytime he did sleep, he would have a nightmare. Always the same one with different variations. The boy's faces--often androgenous, because Kurt only got a few glimpses of their faces--haunted his memories, his subconcious.

"I've hidden your car keys and have taken away your liscence. You won't be able to leave until I say you can."

Kurt grumbled. "Fine!" he shouted, jerking the makeup out of his father's hands. "Leave me alone! Don't come back in here until I say you can." He spat the last few words and shoved his father to the stairs. Kurt went back to his bed and face planted onto the pillow, groaning as he felt pain once more. Always pain. So much pain. He began to cry again. (He thought he was cried out, totally dry, but more just seemed to come.) How could he treat his father like that? He really loved his father, but something came over him. That same anger had came out at Glee. He was losing it a lot. He blamed it on those boys. Those satan creeps....He never knew such a hate. He never knew he could feel so much hate for individuals. He love Puck and Rachel in comparison. He would probably call Rachel his best friend if she was compared to those boys. Kurt wanted to kill them....stab him and cut them like they had done to him...

200 un-read messages.

kurt u ok?

From: TinaCohenChang 10:30 AM

we miss u

From: Brittany 12:00PM

u ok?

From: ArtieAbrams

i luv you, feel bttr.

From: Mercedes(LOVESHERKURT!)Jones 1:00PM

Kurt looked at his phone reading all 200 text messages he had been sent since a few days ago. He was sitting in his bed, not allowed to leave the confines of his house for any reason. He was being force-fed by his dad, even though he would leave most of it sit there, becoming cold. Kurt hadn't spoken two words since the other day when he fought with his father. He and his dad would sit in the kitchen eating the food Burt made, and when Kurt was full--usually when there was half the food left on the plate--he would shove it from him and leave without an "excuse me" or something of that sort. He hated hurting his father, but he was mad. He was mad for stupid reasons. For example he refused to take him to the nail salon with his mother in 5th grade and instead took him fishing. Or, like the time he refused to buy him the Cinderella Barbie Doll he had wanted since he could say "Cindyrelly".

He was also furious with his mother. Why did she have to die? He needed his mother but she was dead. He was angry with her for deserting him when there was no one he could turn to. No one. Kurt against the world, it was. Kurt placed his phone on his nightstand and stared at it. He laid back down.

He wondered if this would've if he was straight. No. It wouldn't have. He was weird. He was gay. That was weird. Unacceptable. Freakish. He was literally a freak of nature. He felt dirty, disgusting, grimy....He could feel the weight of his sins on him. Dad, I'm sorry your son is gay....forgive me dad...forgive me daddy.... I'm sorry your son doesn't retain the innocence he once had. I'm sorry your son has been violeted, beaten, and abused.... I'm sorry, dad. I'm sorry I'm weird. I'm sorry I can't give you grandchildren of my own flesh and blood, I'm sorry I can't fall in love with a girl that you will think is beautiful and charming...I'm sorry I'm a freak of nature. I'm sorry I plague your life with worries and sorrows....I'm sorry, daddy....

What was a kid to do...? He felt as if he had no hope in the world. No one to turn to....

A/N: That's it for now. There will be more, don't worry. I sinceraly enjoyed writing this! If you want to read the first two chapters, please check it out here: .net/s/5712915/1/Defying_Gravity

Your reviews make me want to write longer and better! So REVIEW! : D Thank you all once more! :]