A/N: I'm sorry that this chapter is later than usual! I had a tiny case of writers block. But, this chapter is slightly longer than they have been, so... Enjoy!

A/N2: A big thank's to the wonderful Emberwillow14 for betaing!

Chapter Seven

"I'm so sorry!"

Blaine smiled slightly at Kurt's frantic tone. "It's not your fault, Kurt. Karofsky's a psycho; no one could have possibly predicted that he would come all the way here to attack me."

"But he went there to attack you because of me! He hurt you because of me!"

Blaine pulled his phone away from his ear to glare at it. Of course he knew that Kurt wouldn't see that, but it made him feel better. "I told you, I'm fine. Just a few bruises, no broken bones. It's not like I haven't been beaten up before."

"But you went to Dalton to get away from all that. Now, because of me, you were hurt in a place where you should have been safe!"

Blaine fell back onto his bed, letting out a hiss of pain when his bruised back met the hard mattress. "I am safe here, Kurt. Honestly, I'm more scared for you. I think he might be stalking you; following you, calling you, threatening you and me. You should call the police."

"I can't." Kurt's voice fell to a frightened whisper. "They won't do anything. They have never done anything. Why would this be any different?"

"Because what he's doing is against the law?" Blaine sighed in frustration. "Look, I know you're scared; hell, after what happened yesterday, I'm scared. But this just won't go away. He's only going to keep coming after you until . . ." He couldn't even finish that thought. "At least tell your dad."

"Oh, that would go over well!" The sound of a broken sob came out of the phone. "'Hey Dad, remember the guy that got expelled for trying to rape me? Yeah, he's been stalking me and attacking my boyfriend!' Dad will have another heart attack! I can't tell him. I told him about the first phone call, and he nearly flipped. I . . . I just can't do it."

"If you don't tell someone, Kurt, you're going to end up raped or, worse, killed!" Blaine shouted into the phone. He immediately regretted it when he heard the clear sounds of someone crying on the other line. "Kurt . . ."

"I have to go."

The line went dead.

"Fuck!" Blaine threw his phone across his dorm room and covered his face. He really hadn't meant to yell like that and scare Kurt. He was just so worried about his boyfriend.

"You could go to the police, you know."

Blaine pushed himself up onto his elbows to look at Wes, who was leaning casually against the door frame. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Since you called Kurt." Wes pushed himself away from the door to sit beside his friend on the bed. "If he won't call the police, you should. This Karofsky guy assaulted you; that alone could get him arrested."

Blaine sighed softly. "But what proof is there that he assaulted me? Sure, I'm covered in bruises, but you didn't see who it was, no one else was around . . . It would just be my word against his."

Wes raised a single eyebrow, giving Blaine a skeptical look. "Aren't you scared for Kurt? Maybe if you were to go forward, Kurt would too."

"I doubt it."

"Why are you protecting this guy?" Blaine shot Wes a confused looked. The Asian boy was glaring at him. "Seriously, Blaine. That's what this amounts to. By both you and Kurt not going forward and involving the police, you're essentially protecting this psychopath! Like you said, he's not going to stop unless you or Kurt does something about it! So why aren't you doing something about it? Do you want Kurt to get killed or actually raped?"

Blaine sat up fully, staring at his friend in shock and hurt. "Of course not! Why would you even-"

"Then you go to the police!" Wes interrupted with a shout. "Tell the police everything you know! Tell them everything Kurt has told you! You want to be his hero, Blaine? Then be the fucking hero! Quit burying your head in the sand!"

Blaine stared at the Asian boy in shocked silence.

"You know what?" Wes ran a tired hand through his hair and stood up. "I give up trying to talk some sense into you. You do what you think is best, just don't come crying to me when something happens to Kurt."

Blaine was still silent as he watched his friend walk out of his dorm before falling back down on his bed. In the course of ten minutes, he seemed to have managed to make two people angry at him.

That was just great.

Though, Blaine had to admit that he knew deep down inside Wes was right. Wasn't he just trying to convince Kurt to go to the police about it? Or even just to tell his father? So why was he so afraid to step forward?

He knew the answer to that as well. He was scared; plain and simple. He was scared for himself (he always felt he was kind of a coward), and he was absolutely terrified for Kurt. Blaine had no doubt in his mind that Karofsky would follow through with his threat about killing Kurt.

So yeah, Blaine was just too freaking scared to step forward. And he hated himself for it.

But it wasn't just him in danger this time; he didn't even have to be in danger. It was Kurt that was in danger, and Kurt whose life was threatened. And if anything happened to Kurt . . .

Blaine whipped out his cell phone again and scrolled through his contacts. When he found the rarely used number he was looking for, he hit send.

It rang twice before there was any answer.

"Hello?" The familiar deceptively gruff voice of Kurt's dad said on the other line.

"Mr. Hummel?" Blaine swallowed nervously. "It's Blaine."

"Hey Blaine, is Kurt not answering his cell or something?"

"No, actually he just hung up on me-"

"And you want me to bring the phone to him?" Burt chuckled softly as he thought of the teenagers' antics.

"No; I actually needed to talk to you." Blaine took a deep breath. He was doing this to protect Kurt; it didn't matter if the other boy would hate him afterwards. "It's about Karofsky . . ."

Kurt had been sitting motionless on his bed since he had hung up on Blaine. It had been a stupid thing to do; he knew that Blaine was just trying to help him with this horrible situation that he had somehow found himself in. Besides, Blaine had been the one beaten up; Blaine was the one that he felt he needed to comfort. He stared silently at his mother's dresser which still sat in the middle of his room. He needed to find a way to fix this whole stupid mess.

The phone rang upstairs, but he ignored it. His father was home and would answer it. He just prayed that it wasn't Karofsky calling. His dad really didn't need to hear any of the filth that psychopath spewed. He could hear Burt pacing around upstairs.

It couldn't have been even five minutes later when the door to Kurt's basement bedroom burst open with a loud bang and Burt came barreling down the stairs. The teenager could only stare in shock as his father came to a halt in front of him.

"Why didn't you tell me that that lunatic was threatening your life again?" Burt roared in anger.

Kurt shrank back against his headboard, his bright eyes shining with apprehension. "I-I don't know what you're talking about . . ."

"Karofsky!" Burt reached forward and grasped his son's shoulders gently. "Blaine just called and told me-"

"Blaine talked to you?" Kurt pulled away, feeling slightly betrayed.

"Yes." Burt took a deep breath to calm himself no sense in worrying Kurt about his heart, and sat down on the bed next to him. "Blaine told me that Karofsky attacked him yesterday, threatening to kill you if he ever came near you again."

"What?" Kurt whispered in surprise. "He didn't mention that part to me."

"Blaine's just scared for you, kiddo." Burt reached towards his son and pulled him into a light hug. "So am I. It's probably time to get the police involved. If this kid is making death threats again . . . I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you."

Kurt was shaking his head, though. "The police won't do anything, Dad. They've never done anything. We live in Lima, Dad. No one really cares if the town fag gets death threats."

Burt growled dangerously, his arms tightening around his son protectively. "Don't you dare call yourself that, Kurt. And I care if you get death threats. Your friends care. Blaine cares. Carole and Finn care. Don't even try telling me that no one cares."

Kurt looked up at his father with tears shining in his eyes. "But the police don't care."

Burt sighed, wishing he could tell his son different. But he didn't know for sure if what Kurt was telling him was actually incorrect. "Has Karofsky done anything else? Any more phone calls, or anything?"

Kurt was silent for a moment before slowly nodding. "He called me again yesterday, to tell me that he beat up Blaine. And he left a note in my jacket pocket during Sectionals."

"Do you still have it? The note, I mean."

Kurt nodded again and slipped from his father's arms to cross the room to his desk. He rummaged around in the drawers for a moment, before frantically shifting things on the top of the desk.

"Kurt?" Burt could see his son starting to panic.

"It's gone." The whisper was frantic and scared. "I can't find it; I'm sure that I put it in my desk!"

"Kurt." Burt stood and crossed the room to wrap his arms around his trembling son. "Are you sure that's where you put it? Maybe you threw it out?"

Kurt sobbed quietly. "No, I know I kept it, in case . . . In case he tried anything. Then there would be proof. But it's not here!"

Burt frowned. He could see how freaked out his son was now; how much the stress of everything, and not just this Karofsky thing, was starting to break him. He had realized last night that he hadn't been very . . . well, sensitive about Kurt's feelings on the whole moving-Kurt's-mother's-things-to-the-attic thing. He knew that he had made a mistake in not waiting for Kurt to get home before doing it, and thankfully Finn had the brilliant idea of moving the old dresser down to Kurt's room. But add all that on top of Kurt's insistence of helping to plan the wedding, along with school, glee, and a boyfriend; Kurt was ready to break from stress overload.

"I still think we should go to the police," Burt murmured softly into his son's hair. "At least let them know that this is going on."

Kurt just shook his head again, his entire body shaking with repressed sobs.

"Kurt, listen to me." Burt slid his hand under his son's chin to force Kurt to look at him. "Maybe they won't do anything, but maybe they will. I'd feel a whole lot better if we went to the police now, rather than after Karofsky tries to do something to you. Please, Kurt."

Kurt stared up into his father's eyes before he finally relented.

"Alright."

Burt pulled Kurt close to his chest for another hug. "Thank you."