A/N: Here is the next chapter!Hopefully you'll enjoy it! Please let me know what you think!

A/N2: This chapter was betaed by the awesome Emberwillow14 3

Chapter Six

Kurt had just pulled into his driveway, noting that Carole's car was already there, when his cell phone started ringing. He smiled happily as his boyfriend's name flashed across the screen. It had been just over an hour since they parted, and Blaine already wanted to talk to him.

Kurt put the phone up to his ear and answered silkily, "Hello, Blaine."

"Kurt?"

Kurt frowned as he realized that it wasn't Blaine on the other line. "Wes? Why are you calling me on Blaine's phone? What's wrong?"

"You know someone named Karofsky, right?"

Kurt felt his blood run cold and his breathing stop. "What – what did he do?"

"He just beat Blaine up." Under the surface of Wes's calm voice, there was a deep rage. "I brought him to the nurse's office."

"Is he going to be okay?" Kurt whispered softly, the fear evident in his voice. Karofsky was quite a bit bigger than Blaine, after all.

"I don't know; it just happened." Wes sighed in frustration. "His face was already starting to bruise, and I think that the back of his head was bleeding a bit. He seemed to be having some trouble breathing, as well, although that could have just been from nerves. Kurt, this Karofsky person told Blaine to stay away from you."

"What?" Kurt could feel panic rising inside, making it harder to breath. Did Karofsky hurt Blaine just because of him?

"I'm not sure what the whole story on that is yet, but I thought you should know. Blaine didn't want you to worry, so I think you should watch out. Got that?"

Kurt nodded dumbly before he remembered that Wes couldn't see him. "Yeah; I know Karofsky can be pretty dangerous."

"Okay." Wes paused for a moment. "I'm going to make sure that Blaine's all right. Shall I force him to call you when he's able?"

"Yes, please." Kurt hung his phone up and let it fall onto his lap.

Blaine had been hurt because of him. Even worse, Blaine had been beaten up because of him. It was his entire fault that Karofsky had gone after Blaine.

Kurt's phone rang again, interrupting his thoughts. The display said it was an unknown number, so he answered cautiously.

"Hello?"

"I paid a little visit to your pretty little boyfriend. He's not so pretty anymore."

It was Karofsky.

Unconsciously, Kurt shrank back into his car seat, trembling from a combination of fear and anger. "Why?"

"He touched what's mine." Karofsky's voice deepened to a rough, angry growl. "I just made sure he knew not to let it happen again."

"What are you talking about?" Kurt had a sick suspicion he knew what – who – this "possession" was.

"You. You belong to me, Kurt."

"I don't belong to you, Karofsky!" Kurt hissed as he sat up straight. He could feel rage coursing through his body. "I don't belong to anyone!"

Karofsky chuckled lightly, the sound sending shivers down Kurt's spine. "I think it's adorable how you think that I don't own you. But it's true; doesn't everything I do influence your actions?"

Kurt sat in a shocked silence, which Karofsky took for agreement.

"Once you admit that you're mine, things will go a lot smoother. No one else will get hurt; I'll even leave Mr. Prep School alone."

Kurt tried to swallow nervously around the lump that suddenly appeared in his throat when he heard the thinly veiled threat against his boyfriend.

"What do you want from me?" He hadn't meant to say it out loud.

Karofsky gave another low chuckle. "Oh, Kurt. I think you know what I want. I want you. All of you; every inch."

"You will never have me." Kurt was proud that there was not even a hint of a waver in his voice, despite the fact that he was trembling violently. "Stay away from me and stay away from Blaine, or else I will get the police involved."

"The police won't help you, and you know it. Otherwise you would have involved them already." Karofsky actually laughed out loud. "Have they ever done anything? Every time your house was vandalized, bricks were thrown through your windows, lawn furniture was nailed to your roof. Others harassing you in public, flinging hateful slurs at you. What have the police ever done to help? The truth is, they don't care. Nobody really cares about fags like you and Pretty Boy. No one cares what happens to you."

Kurt didn't even realize that he had whimpered until Karofsky's voice softened drastically.

"Don't worry, Baby-"

Kurt flinched at Karofsky's use of that particular term of endearment. Something told him he would never want Blaine to call him that again after hearing it fall from his bully's lips.

"Don't worry. I won't have to hurt you as long as you're a good boy."

Good boy.

He couldn't breathe.

"Are you going to be a good boy?"

He was in the janitor's closet again. Karofsky had his hand on his throat again.

"Get on your knees."

Kurt gasped for breath; he felt as though he really had been back there, unable to breath. He couldn't give in to Karofsky; not this time.

"Go to Hell, Karofsky, and leave me alone!"

"Wrong answer, Kurt." The line went dead. Karofsky had hung up.

Kurt sat in his car breathing deeply, trying to calm himself down. It wouldn't be good to go into his house when he was so freaked out, especially since Finn and Carole were apparently already there. The Hudson's were supposed to come over after his date to start moving his mother's things to the attic. Hopefully they didn't start without him; he wanted a chance to go through everything in case there was something he could sneak down to his room. He took one last deep breath before slowly climbing out of his car and walking into the house.

Carole and Finn were just putting on their jackets.

"Hey," Kurt looked at the mother and son in confusion. "What's going on?"

Burt came in from the kitchen. "Kurt! You're home. Carole and Finn were just leaving."

Kurt frowned slightly, still confused. "Aren't we supposed to be clearing out the spare room today?"

"We already did." Finn smiled cheerfully.

"What?" Kurt could feel the blood rushing from his face.

"Carole has to cover a shift at work tonight, so we decided to clear it out earlier," Burt replied, looking closely at his son in worry. "They couldn't come tomorrow to do it, and we didn't want to interrupt your date. Are you okay?"

Kurt was just staring off into space. The spare room had been cleared out already. He didn't get a chance to go through anything before it all got shoved into the attic. It was like there was nothing left of his mother; his beautiful, wonderful, sweet mother.

"Dude, are you okay?"

He freaked out while kissing Blaine. Blaine had gotten beaten up. Karofsky called him, threatening him and Blaine.

"What's wrong with him?"

Now his mother's things were all packed away in the attic, were he couldn't easily get to them.

"Kurt, honey, what's wrong?"

The dresser was gone; hidden in the attic. He couldn't even get the comfort and safety he felt when he opened the drawers and let the smell of her perfume envelope him. He wanted that comfort.

"Did that Blaine kid do something? Should I be getting out my shotgun?"

He needed that comfort.

"Is he breathing?"

Kurt blinked, and jumped a bit when he saw the three worried faces close to his own. He took in a deep, shuddering breath – he felt like he was going to burst into tears at any moment – and forced a smile onto his face.

"I'm fine. Sorry to worry you all; it was just a surprise. I'm fine."

Burt looked doubtful, and opened his mouth to speak, but Kurt cut him off.

"I'm actually kind of tired, so I'll just go lay down." He rushed by the others and clattered down the stairs to the basement. He needed to be left alone before the dam that was holding back the tears broke. He turned the corner to go down the last few steps and stopped short.

His mother's dresser, the one with the smell of her perfume still in it, was sitting in the middle of his room.

Kurt slowly walked forward, gently laying his hand on the beautiful dark wood. He wasn't seeing things; it really was there.

"I remembered you telling me about that thing." Finn stood right behind the smaller teen. "About how it made you feel better sometimes just to be able to smell your mom's perfume. I kinda figured that you wouldn't want it shoved in the attic where you couldn't get to it, so I asked Burt if we could move it down here. I guess it doesn't really go with your . . . room at all, but it's better than nothing, right?"

Kurt could feel the tears welling up in his eyes and start to spill over, whether it was from the stress of the day or seeing that dresser in his room he didn't know. He spun around suddenly and threw his arms around Finn's neck, pulling the much taller boy into a tight embrace.

"Uh, dude . . . Kurt . . ." Finn flailed awkwardly as he tried to figure out just what was happening.

"Thank you," Kurt whispered, burying his face in Finn's shirt as the tears cascaded down his cheeks. "Thank you so much. This is . . . just so amazing. I can't even . . . This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me."

Finn awkwardly patted Kurt on the back before pushing him away gently. "It's no big deal. I know how it feels. Why are you crying? Did Blaine do anything?"

Kurt laughed. It was a little bitter, but he knew Finn wouldn't be able to tell. "No, Blaine didn't do anything. Actually Blaine got hurt, and I . . . It's been a stressful day. That's all."

"Oh. Okay." Finn rubbed the back of his neck and started backing up. "So, we're leaving now. I just wanted to explain why this was in here."

Kurt nodded, and smiled. "Thanks again Finn. It really means a lot to me that you remembered that."

Finn smiled and headed back upstairs.

Kurt turned back to his mother's dresser and sat on the floor in front of it, opening all of the drawers wide. As her sweet, beautiful perfume wafted out at him, he felt like, just for a little while at least, everything would be okay.