Chapter Seven

"Please don't touch me." Kurt shook as he tried to stand to his feet and move past Puck. He felt like things couldn't possible get worse. He hissed as he tried to stand and his ribs shifted. He'd broken one—it was clear. Everything was shaking, and Kurt honestly wasn't sure if it was because of the pain or because of the fear he'd felt at the attack. The bullying had become more vicious lately...but today. He closed his eyes. It was rapidly becoming overwhelming.

"You need to go to the hospital." Puck's voice invaded his thoughts.

Kurt glared at him. "Well that's not going to happen unless it's to visit my father. I just need to clean myself up. Now you can either help me or get out of my way."

Puck seemed to consider this for a long moment and nodded. "Fine." He shut the bathroom door again and locked it. Grabbing a handful of paper towels, he wet one and pressed it to the wound on Kurt's lip. He then placed the other one on Kurt's neck. "You're warm," Puck offered quietly.

"I'm going to assume it's because my heart is pounding."

Puck shook his head. "No, then you'd be cool because your heart is racing to try and cool you off in an intense situation. You would sweat. You're fever warm."

"I'm fine," Kurt lied.

"Clearly. Mom's going to have a fit over this—"

"She isn't going to find out. I'm sleeping at my house tonight."

"Kurt."

"Puck!" Kurt cut him off. Gulping at the rise of bile in his throat, he quickly softened his harsh tone. "Please, I can't take this. I'm sore, I'm exhausted and I'm dying to sleep in my own bed. I'll do practically anything you ask as long as I can be left alone by the end of the day."

He closed his eyes, allowing his mind to wander as Puck tended to his injuries.

Dad had been in his office when Kurt stepped into the room, looking up at him. When his father glanced up, Kurt felt his stomach rolling at the shock and pain passing through his father's eyes as the sight of his eight year old child standing there in a torn shirt, bloody lip, and a swollen eye, his arm was tucked close to his ribs as well.

"Jesus Kurt!" Burt snapped immediately moving from behind the desk towards his son, "What the hell happened!" Kurt was sure he hadn't meant to sound angry, but he couldn't stop himself from backing away in fear, all the same.

"I'm sorry!" Kurt cried like he did as a small child.

Burt sighed, his shoulders visibly sagging. "No, I'm sorry. Come here. I'm not angry at you. Remember we talked about this?"

Kurt nodded, stepping towards his father so his dad could look him over. "What happened?"

The boy's eyes began to water again and he shook his head, unable to answer. Burt lifted his child up onto his desk and pulled out his first aid kid. "I can't fix it Kurt, if you don't tell me."

"You can fix everything."

Burt wished his son was right, but in truth no, he couldn't. He really couldn't. And that made it even worse. "Wanna tell me what's happened?"

"I don't think Noah likes me anymore," Kurt began to cry.

"Did he do this?"

Kurt gave the most hesitant nod. He watched as his father grabbed a small towel and began to wipe his injuries. Then Burt began to hum softly. "Want to talk about it?"

"No."

"I don't like you coming home like this."

"I'm sorry."

Burt was quiet for a moment, before speaking, "Not because I'm angry son. It worries me. Do we need to go see about other injuries?"

"No?"

"Kurt?"

Burt must have realized there was more than one pang of pain on his child, because the next moment, Kurt was being lifted carefully. "Okay big guy, let's go visit the doctor."

"Am I unlovable?"

"No, and you're too young to be thinking that." he replied, hand on Kurt's head gently leading him to the truck.

"Kurt? KURT!" Puck snapped, causing Kurt to shudder and startle. He looked at Puck and he sighed. "I'm sorry. You had me worried there for a minute. Seriously dude you need a hospital..."

"I can't, Puck. I can't, not yet." He looked down, feeling completely ashamed of all of this.

"Dude."

Kurt cut him off again. "Seriously stop calling me dude. And I don't need a babysitter."

"How about a friend?" Puck offered as he finished cleaning Kurt up. "Do you have clothes in your locker?"

"Why did you stop him?"

Puck sighed as he moved towards Kurt. He reached out, surprising Kurt and himself a little. He slid his fingers against Kurt's bruised cheek. "Because I won't have someone hurting you."

"You hurt me," Kurt replied.

"Seriously dude, I'm a shit friend, I get that. But..." Puck sighed, "Remember when you were crying 'cause your mom had finally been taken off life support, and you were really upset?" Kurt nodded, remembering that night clearly. His father had been so depressed. He'd sent Kurt to stay with Sarah and Noah for the night. "You kissed me that night...a second time."

"I didn't think you'd ever admit that occurred."

"A year ago, you'd have been right. Now...I'm starting to think I wouldn't mind it."

"I'm not a pity fuck, Puck," Kurt ground out. "I'm not one of those girls you are so quick to sleep with."

Puck rolled his eyes. "I can actually be in a relationship and not have sex, dude."

"Oh my god, please stop calling me that, or I will cut off your jewels!"

Puck chuckled. "Still feisty. Kurt, I'm not the greatest guy in the world, okay? I suck at being a good person sometimes, and I'm not saying I'll be the world's best whatever...anything...but I'm asking you to give me a chance."

"Wait...what?" Kurt was stunned.

Noah looked at him. He drew closer. "I'm asking you...to be with me...to let me kiss you again?" he whispered, only inches from Kurt this time.

Kurt couldn't stop himself. He closed the remaining inches, lips locking with Puck's. They were just like he remembered, a little dry, but full of strength, and enough love to make him feel special and have his knees melt.

A few seconds later, Kurt withdrew, his lips swollen and acing. He felt flushed and light-headed. "I...I can't," he whispered, eyes watering.

Puck looked at him, his doe-brown eyes serious. "Because I'm a jerk?"

Kurt shook his head. "No, because I'm in pain—not just physical—I'm dying inside without Dad. I...I'm afraid that by saying yes right now, I'll only be doing it because someone is actually being nice. I want to make that decision when my life...is normal again." He laughed, "If that ever happens."

"It will," Puck replied as he rubbed Kurt's back. "Want me to go get you anything from the locker?"

"No, but if you'd care to drive me home, that'd be nice."

"I can do that...Do you want me to stay with you tonight?" Kurt looked at him for a long moment, surprised when Puck threw up his hands. "Nothin' funny."

"If you want to, I guess."

Puck smiled as he grabbed Hummel's bag. "I want to."

They made their way out of the school in slow companionable silence, glad that no one ever thought to stop them. Kurt was limping slightly, sweat dotting his brow. "Why now? I thought you weren't gay?" Kurt asked softly after several minutes. His words came out harsher than intended, but Puck felt it was because the teen was struggling to breath, much less walk.

Puck smiled weakly, "I'm not...I'm not attracted to dudes...just...just you." He grinned suddenly. "Maybe I'm just Hummelsexual"

"Seriously! Where did you come up with that?"

Puck simply shrugged, "Maybe I'm trying to say that you're special and that's why I like you."

Kurt didn't reply. Instead he was quiet for several moments, before looking at Puck. "Can I ask a random question?"

"Sure."

"Does...does loving God make you feel better?"

Puck looked at him seriously. "No...not all the time. I lost some of my faith in him when Dad left... I feel bad for God, ya know? People only want him when they're angry. But God is more than that, he doesn't create the pain, he helps heal it."

"That's why my dad is agnostic because it's easier to not have someone to blame than to find a scapegoat."

Puck nodded. "I don't think God hates you. In fact I think he loves you more than all those others." He opened the door to his truck and looked at Kurt. "Sorry dude." With a little help he got Kurt into the truck. Kurt's face, however, was drenched with sweat and he was huffing. If Puck didn't know better he'd say Kurt was on the brink of passing out.

"I'm pretty sure that God wouldn't choose favorites," Kurt offered several moments later once he'd regained some composure.

"I think that God's favorite followers are the ones who live good lives and struggle with the biggest questions. I'm not exactly the most devout Jew you're ever going to meet. I'm not perfect, but I appreciate that sometimes someone might be watching me." Puck shrugged. "But no, it doesn't always make it easier and sometimes praying doesn't always work. The truth is nature is going to win out. Miracles are rare."

"How come you didn't shove it on me too?"

"It's like I said, I'm not about shoving the G-man in anyone's face. If you believe, great, something we got in common. If not, great, something we can leave alone. It's a personal issue; it's no one's business but your own. Besides, I'm inclined to think Jews are more comfortable with their religion than others."

Kurt smiled. "Surprisingly, Rachel hasn't tried to push it on me. She seemed surprised but not...angry. Mercedes wants me to go to church on Sunday with her."

"Do you want to?" Puck asked honestly.

"I haven't really decided yet." Kurt replied.

"When's the last time you went to church?"

Kurt studied Puck seriously for a moment, "Mom's funeral."

Puck nodded, "Always worth a try, but only go if you're comfortable with it."