A/N- okay so even I don't know what pill Kurt took in the second part of this chapter (because It's an experience I had) but I'm pretty sure from my own experiences it was some strange mixture of opiates and amphetamines.

Any questions on how Kurt or Blaine act in this chapter can probably be answered by the beginning quote :D (which is a big theme to this story)

(un-beta'd, I think my beta disappeared…)

I do not own glee, please review!

"The anguish of the neurotic individual is the same as that of the saint. The neurotic, the saint are engaged in the same battle. Their blood flows from similar wounds. But the first one gasps and the other one gives." –Georges Bataille

As the summer wore on, I became especially inclined towards codeine. Ethan had gotten me a bottle of 50mg pills, and soon I found myself unable to go a day without them.

It wasn't that I couldn't put them down, but every time I would come down I would get sick, and I couldn't help thinking 'if I have them, why not use them?' If I took 3 pills the nausea went away and I was flying again, and unlike everything else I had done, codeine made me feel as though all my pain was really happiness so condensed that if felt like pain.

I took 3 pills in the morning, two when it started to wear off, and then three around 4 in the afternoon. This routine kept me in a constant state of flying, and prevented the horrible after effect I had come to fear so greatly.

I knew that at some point I would have to face detox, for I had seen those pictures of old men and women with their teeth blackened and their hair shriveled, and I refused to become that. I was young and I was beautiful, and to me that was the perfect excuse to hold off on that imminent death of everything I had become dependent on. I had decided somewhere in the back of my mind that I would be completely clean by the age of 28. Even though my planned sobriety was over ten years from the present, the thought of not having my high, of going through the horrible ache and illness of detox, frightened me beyond all else.

Ethan, Brittany and I had become a sort of business where he would get the drugs, Brittany or I would pay for the drugs with our bodies, and then we would all get high. Usually it was just blowjobs, but I had hesitantly let a few more guys fuck me. Usually it was for 20 dollars; sometimes if someone extremely dimwitted came it could be as much as 50. Sometimes the price was simply money, and other times it was drugs.

Sex was becoming more and more boring, and letting guys fuck me out back became less and less painful. The experiences certainly weren't as bad as what I had suffered through the first time, for I insistently refused to do it if I was on any sort of hallucinogen that wasn't weed.

The danger of it all sent thrills through my spine, and made me almost forget about the horror of my first time, and the fact that frightening man had not used a condom.

Usually I just forced myself not to think about it, but sometimes the memory would creep up on me when my mind was inactive, or unable to suppress the thoughts. Sometimes when I was high the reality of it sent me into such a state of panic I had to throw myself off of whatever I was sitting on to distract myself. Other times when men were thrusting into me the same way Bubha had done, I had to actually convince myself that I wasn't still in that terrifying memory. For such inexplicable reasons I was so incredibly proud of myself, but also so incredibly disgusted by myself. I loved to look back at the idea of what had happened and cry my eyes out because I had an exact, physical thing I could be upset over, but whenever I thought about the actual event and how it had felt and made me think, I start to feel sick and ashamed.

Before I knew it most of the summer was gone, and those hazel eyes that had seemed to see into my soul were fading slowly and surely into blackness.

O.o.O

I was floating. Or at least I thought I was. Everything around me was blue, and my skin was soaked in warm water that smelled of strawberries and lavender. Something was ringing, and I tried to ignore it. I wanted to keep floating. I could see the bubbles and they were distant, but far too close.

I gasped, emerging from my daydream as if I were unconscious, my neck shooting up, my eyes searching desperately to figure out where I was.

I was in the shower. I was lying in the tub on my shower floor as the water pounded onto my stomach, water filling my ears making them ring a torturous monotone. I laid my head against the back of the tub again, trying to remember how I got where I was, but nothing came to me.

I had been at Ethan's. He had given me a brand new bottle of codeine because I earned him 50 bucks when I 'let' that bastard Bubha fuck me again, but I had forced him to wear a condom this time. I had decided to drive home relatively sober for safety, then when I had gotten home I remembered taking 3 pills… and then blackness.

I groaned, the noise sounding loud and echoed in the acoustics of my bathroom. Realizing with a look at my pruned hands that I had probably been in there for hours, I got up clumsily and tuned off the shower, not bothering to dry off, and walked into my room wet and naked.

I was thirsty. I was so thirsty I felt as though I hadn't drank in days, so I put on some old pajamas and made my way downstairs, realizing as I did so that there was no way those pills were codeine. My vision was spinning and my feet were slipping on the steps and perfectly non-slippery carpet. I kept bumping into walls, and then feeling myself fly as the blow propelled me across the hallway and into the kitchen.

I got a bowl and stumbled over to the sink to fill it with water, wondering why on earth someone would make a drinking glass shaped like this, and better yet why my father had bought it. Once the bowl was filled with water I began drinking from it desperately, the water falling down my shirt and onto the floor.

"Kurt… why are you drinking from a bowl?" grumbled my father, casually walking into the room.

The bowl fell from my hands and clattered to the ground, water splashing up from the floor and soaking the bottom of my pajama pants. I stared at my father, and against my greatest efforts, I began to sway dangerously.

My father was there in a second to hold me up and balancing me against the kitchen counter.

"Da- is not what he thing… is" I explained. This made perfect sense in my head, and I had no idea why my father was looking at me with large, confused eyes. Were my dad's eyes always that big?

"Kurt, are you drunk!" my dad exclaimed, sounding angry and confused.

"Ack-ho taste too bad, too much…" I began, trying to find the word I was looking for, not even recognizing my father's question as accusatory. "Ew!" I yelled triumphantly.

"Kurt you need to lie down" said Burt, apparently deciding a lecture would not be any bit helpful while I was in such a state, and compromising that for the moment he needed to take care of me; punishment would come when I sobered up.

Somehow I ended up in my bed, wrapped warmly in the covers, though I did not remember getting their in the slightest. The last thing I remembered before sinking back into blue was my father's hand reaching out for a small orange bottle on my bedside table.

When I woke up, then sun seemed to be setting from the single window casting a pinkish light through the thin drawn curtains. It took me a few minutes of mindless existence to realize that when I had gone to sleep, it had been night time. I must have slept almost 24 hours. My eyes felt heavy and sore, and my limbs felt stiff and lank. Even more minutes of simple, effortless existence passed by before my father walked into the room and saw that I was awake.

"Kurt, thank god! I didn't know one person could sleep so long. Look, now that you're awake and sober, we need to talk." Said Burt.

"Sober?" I asked, trying to sound casual, but feeling my stomach drop and my heart rate race.

"Yes Kurt, sober." Burt went into his jacket pocket and pulled out the small orange pill bottle Ethan had given me the previous day.

At the sight of it, my mind cleared instantly. I knew what to do, I just had to let instinct take over.

"Crap… crap! Puck!" I shouted, slamming my fists onto my mattress and looking angry and offended.

"What?" my dad asked, clearly taken aback.

"Puck! He gave me those pills to help with my legs. I've been going on jogs while you've been at work, you know, I think that's why I'm losing weight, but I've been getting cramps in my legs and he said it would help." I said convincingly, looking guilty. "I'm so sorry dad, I had no idea it was one of those types of pills, I just thought it was just some type of pain reliever!"

"Kurt…" my dad said skeptically.

"Dad, if I was doing drugs, do you think I would have just left the bottle lying on by bedside table in plain sight?" I said, narrowing my eyes at my father as if offended that he wasn't trusting me.

"Kurt, why in the world did you take pills from someone like Noah Puckerman!" my dad said exasperated, and I felt a thrill of triumph that he had bought the story.

"I know I was being stupid dad but you don't understand! People always hate me and I just thought…" I trailed off and crumpled up my face for effect.

My dad sat down on my bed and held me tight to his chest. I wished he wouldn't, I felt sick with myself.

"It's alright kiddo, you didn't know you were doing anything wrong. You just get some rest or… read or something okay?" my dad advised.

"Yah," I said, wiping my eyes bashfully "I'll do that."

O.o.O

Two days later I was storming into Ethan's shed, finding him, as ever, sucking from a large blue bong and looking smug.

"What the fuck was in those pills!" I bellowed.

Ethan stared at me for a moment, as if trying to decide if I was real. "I don't know, man." He said dismissively.

"You don't know. You don't know! You said it was codeine, Ethan!"

"I did." He confirmed maddeningly.

I stared at him, trying to decide whether to hit him or smash his bong on the floor.

"I bet you didn't get sick though." He said smugly.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I growled.

"You've been goin' at that codeine like mad. You should have been puking your brains out after 3 days without it, but you didn't."

"Are you saying this was your way of, what, helping me out of my addiction or something?" I said sarcastically, looking at him dangerously.

Ethan barked out a laugh. "No, I just think it's funny."

I stormed out, wondering why in the world I even bother with such arrogant people.

O.o.O

As angry as I was with Ethan, he was the only one with connections. He never let anyone else close enough to the dealers to make contacts because he enjoyed the power of being the head provider. Unless I wanted to go sober, I had no choice but to stick with Ethan and go back to the pattern we had made when summer started.

Ethan had gotten me a new bottle of codeine when I earned him another 50 bucks, cursing the world for how unfair it was. I was so angry I got absolutely nothing but trouble with my father by letting Bubha fuck me again, but I didn't dare say anything. I was able to go back to my old routine with the codeine, and everything was back to my sick, twisted version of normal.

It was late one Wednesday evening, my father working late as usual, when Brittany came in so drunk I doubted she knew where she was. She was brandishing a truly huge bottle of vodka and screaming out "it's time to party!"

This pronouncement might sound cool in movies and music, but it just looked comical and foolish in the dim light and quiet atmosphere of the shed. Brittany promptly began to fall sideways, narrowly being rescued by Santana who had eyes for no one but Brittany.

She stumbled towards me and shoved the bottle under my nose, the smell causing me to gag over it.

"Kuuurt!" wined Brittany."I even watered it down foyu Kurt's so good" she rested her head on my shoulder and began begging me to take some.

She really did not understand how the smell of alcohol affected me. Her breath was being lulled into my nostrils along with the fumes of the liquid emanating from the large bottle. I was starting to feel nauseous, a feeling not helped by the four codeine pills I had taken 30 minutes earlier.

"Brit, Brit stop stop st-" I suddenly felt myself starting to get sick, and shoved Brittany off of me so I could run out of the shed.

I had taken 2 strides outside however when I ran head first into a firm body and fell to the ground. My body could not take any more movement, and I sickeningly threw up right next to the stranger shoes.

I felt arms wrap around me and lead me further away from the shed, and my first thought was that it was Bubha or another one of Ethan's dealers come to use me again, and a feeling of dread spread through me as I dry heaved over the leafy ground. I felt hopeless, for I was too weak to throw the man off, and to sick to verbalize any sort of resistance.

But then I heard a soothing voice whispering "Shh, it's okay, shh." Into my ear, and I realized, perhaps foolishly, this person wasn't going to take advantage of me.

My stomach was going through spasms, but as I came down from being ill, those strong arms still held me together.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry so sorry." I repeated over and over again, the codeine and weed making my vision seem overly dimensional and my thoughts jumbled and confused.

"No, don't apologize, it's ok." The stranger said earnestly.

I looked up at him, and my mind was suddenly snapped into clarity. "Blaine." I proclaimed loudly.

Blaine looked shocked. "You remember my name?" he rasped.

"Yah of course…" I said, shaking my head to try and clear my once again foggy mind. "Blaine why… why did you help me?"

Blaine unwrapped his arms from my waist self consciously and said "sorry, I just-"

"No, no Blaine I'm happy you did, but why?"

"Why wouldn't I?" said Blaine, looking genuinely confused.

I stared at him, realizing as I did so that I was way too high. Blaine was starting to emit a faint green glow, and for half a second I wondered if he was god, then I realized what I was thinking and cursed Ethan for giving me laced weed again.

"Fuck!" I said loudly. "Fucking Ethan!"

"What's your name?" said Blaine kindly.

"Kurt" I said distractedly, trying to ignore m hands which were definitely trying to speak to me.

"Do you want a ride home?"

"I have to take my car… my dad he-"

"Look you are in no state to drive; I can drive your car." Blaine held out his hands expectantly for my keys, but I was too busy marveling in how big his hand was. "Where are your keys?" Blaine said.

"Pocket… the this." I said, pointing to my left front pocket before almost falling onto my back, but Blaine caught me.

"Unless you want to by lying in your own throw up, you should come with me."

Once we were on our feet, Blaine's arm around my waist and my arm around his shoulder, we began making our way to my car. Halfway there however, I stopped dead in my tracks and stumbled away from him.

"No no no, I am so tired of this. I know what you're doing!" I pointed at him accusingly, my voice rising with each word. "You think you can just fuck me for nothing? No you have to talk to Ethan first Blaine I'm not just some fuck toy!" my face was scrunched up now and my eyes were watering. It was taking all my efforts to stand, but still I kept my eyes on Blaine.

"No Kurt, no I'm not trying to… to do that with you I promise I just want to get you home safe!"

"Oh and why would I trust you" I spat.

"Kurt please, let's just get you home okay?" Blaine begged.

I glared at him, trying to decide what to do. I trusted Blaine already more than I did anyone else around here, though that scared me because I had no reason to believe he wasn't just like the rest of them. On the other hand my dad would be home in a few hours, and there would be no way I could sober up in time to drive home, and it was absolutely ridiculous to ask someone like Ethan to drive me.

"Fine, but I swear to god Blaine-" I tried to finish my sentence, but then gagged as a second wave of nausea hit me.

Blaine rushed over to help me. "Okay come on, it's okay I promise."

Once we got to the car I handed him the keys, glaring pointedly at him.

while we were driving away and I was giving him directions to my house, I groaned "I need my pills."

"What?" said Blaine incredulously.

"Blaine if I don't take my pills I'm going to be sick, I need them. Please hurry."

"Kurt, are you crazy? You can't even walk on your own; I hardly think you should be taking more drugs!"

"You just don't get it!" I wined, irrationally upset.

Blaine insisted on helping me up to my room after I yelled at him for a good 5 minutes saying "I know what you're doing Blaine, I'm not stupid!" In the end though, Blaine won and we were stumbling into my bedroom. I fell onto my bed with a feeling of disappointment in my chest. I realized I didn't want Blaine to go, despite my previous accusations.

I grabbed his wrist and pulled him onto the bed with me and crawled my way on top of him, hardly noticing his squirming resistance. I barely heard the words and noises coming out of Blaine's mouth as I began kissing up his neck, noticing how his breath hitched and how he began panting slightly. "Blaine… Blaine… I take back what I said… you can fuck me I promise…" I kissed him deeply, scratching down his shirt and over his nipples.

Blaine sat up sharply and pushed me off of him looking conflicted and hurt. "Kurt please I…I-"

"Are you like straight or something?" I snapped, recovering from being shoved unceremoniously off of Blaine.

Blaine blushed deeply and said "Kurt…"

"Well are you?"

"Kurt please I've… I've never, I've never told anyone please…"

"Oh my god you're in the closet" I said gaping at him. My head was still fuzzy, but the seriousness of the situation was making it oddly clear.

"Kurt you… that was my first kiss." Said Blaine, blushing deeply, teary eyes focused determinately at his hands.

I stared at him for a second, taking in his slumped shoulders, the tears in his sad eyes, and the way he seemed to be caving in on himself. For the first time in years, I felt like caring for someone other than myself, and I felt ashamed and guilty for stealing from Blaine what Ethan had stole from me. As much as happy and proud as I had been when Ethan had done that, now I hated the fact that I had put someone else through it. I wrapped my arm around Blaine and said "Blaine, oh Blaine I'm so sorry I didn't know."

"Why would you just kiss someone without knowing something like that!" said Blaine, anger prominent in his voice.

"Blaine, you don't understand, it's just…" what was I suppose to say? It's just that people are always kissing me without knowing anything about me? It's just that fucking has become just another thing to do to get what I want? It's just that I've forgotten what normal is and I can hardly be expected to act like I remember? Blaine wiped his eyes and I said "Blaine I'm so sorry, but if it makes you feel any better my first kiss was much worse." I said, smiling lightly.

Blaine chuckled weakly and said "what was it like then?"

I felt like I shouldn't tell him, like it was my business and no one else's, but Blaine had just done me a gigantic favor and he had been the one to help me while I was sick like no one else had done. Half of me wanted it to be my own little shameful secret, but the other half of me wanted to let it off of my chest so that I could somehow move on from that small, shameful memory.

"I…" I said, not quite sure how to begin. "Well I wanted to you know, get…get high…" Blaine looked at me, and I bowed my head in shame. "And well, Ethan wanted a blowjob so I… so I did and he kissed me. It was gross, but I got what I wanted. You know?"

I looked up, hoping Blaine would say something along the lines of 'yes that is completely understandable', but instead he just stared at me, and then stood up abruptly. "I should go." He said.

Panicking, I reached out to grab him with my left arm and he looked down at it to my sleeve that had accidentally ruffled up to display many thick red scars that lined my arm. I pulled my arm back, feeling an increasing sense of déjà vu. Blaine was staring at my arm cradled against my chest, just like the night with Mercedes and Rachel. I was waiting for him to walk out disgusted, but he did not. He just stared at my arm, and said quietly "Kurt…"

"Please stay." I whispered, closing my eyes and just wishing Blaine would forget what he saw, but at the same time wanting him to shout me down and tell me all the reasons I did it, as if he knew. I wanted him to kiss each scar so I knew that I wasn't only one who thought them beautiful. I wanted him to tell me that I was not disgusting and unworthy of happiness because of these marks I was so proud of yet so disgusted by.

"Kurt… I don't know why you want me too. We are two so completely different people! You like drugs and sex and I like music and books, where on earth could this friendship go?"

I looked up at him, thankful and also disappointed to see he was looking in my face now. "I use to be just like you. I've always been broken, but I never used to act like it."

Blaine just stared at me for a moment, and then said "everyone's broken, Kurt. That doesn't mean you have to willingly break yourself even more."

"Look Blaine, you don't know the reasons why I do what I do, but in this moment right now, for the first time in my entire life I feel like sharing my emotions with someone, and if that's too much than okay, but I want you to stay and I want to get to know you because I see my old self in you and I feel, god this is embarrassing to say, but part of me feels like you see a bit of yourself in me. I know I'm probably wrong, but that's what I feel and I just want… I just want someone to be here. Just to sit next to me so I'm not so damn alone all the time."

I hadn't realized I was crying until Blaine leaned over and wiped a tear from my eye and said "okay." He stared at me for a moment as I kept my eyes on my hands, and then added "and you do remind me of myself by the way. I mean… I've never done drugs or had sex… or even kissed anyone until a few minutes ago but I see things behind your eyes that look so familiar."

I didn't know what to say. In that moment a wave of emotions hit me that were a mixture of resentment and happiness. I wanted to push Blaine away because I didn't want to be pitied, and I was perfectly capable of surviving alone. I also wanted to pull him closer because I was just so, so alone and all I wanted was for him to know every part of me and somehow mend the pieces back together. I wanted him to tell me I was ridiculous for clinging to someone I had only properly met hours ago, but I also wanted to tell him he was the first person who wasn't my father to take care of me as if I were an actual human being.

The scariest part was that, though this moment was peaceful because I was high and Blaine was lightly tracing my scars through the fabric of my shirt as though they were normal and okay, when morning came nothing would be different. Blaine would want me to be sober, and that was something I could not do. He would want to know what I did during the day, and I wouldn't be able to answer him because the truth would only tear apart our pretty picture were broken people could be put back together by the mere thought of friendship and love. Our thoughts would be torn apart because the naïve idea that exterior changes like new friends and new lives could change the fact that inner battles and loneliness still linger on.

We were just two strangers who saw ourselves in each other's eyes. We were both young and scared and desperate for something to cling onto, yet neither of us knew how to get what we wanted. We had no choice but to keep walking down the roads that had led us to where we were in that moment, and hope that this fork in the road would only be our lives coming together to walk down a new, brighter path.