A/N: Happy New Year! Sorry for the late update, New Years took its toll on me. I'll be a lot happier about it being 2012 when I stop throwing up, I think. CHAPTER SPOILER ALERT: Shit's about to get real. I've never had a nervous breakdown so I don't actually know what would be going through someone's head, but I have had hundred of anxiety attacks so I've based it on those. That kind of feeling is really, really hard to express in words but I've done my best. I hope it comes across okay.
Dangerous, I'm dangerous, I'm a monster-
He was barely aware of bursting out of the front doors, of knocking aside a janitor as he ran towards his car, pulling his hands out of his pockets with shaking hands, climbing behind the wheel with tears pouring down his face. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, thoughts slipping in and out of his mind so fast he couldn't grasp them, couldn't focus on anything -
Dangerous, monster, freak, they're afraid of me, he's a afraid of me, they should be, murderer, murderer, murderer-
He was driving, barely conscious of what he was doing. He heard someone honk at the back of his mind, but it was drowned out by the screaming -
How could he, how could I, I don't know what to do, I don't, I can't, I can't handle this, scared, so scared, they're scared of me, what do I do, murderer murderer murderer-
He pulled his car onto the lawn in front of his house and staggered out, dragging himself inside as the panic attack raged in his mind. The door was open slightly, but he didn't really register it as he made his way upstairs, blackness creeping into the edges of his vision as his brain started to shut down from lack of oxygen. His bedroom door was open and he rushed inside, collapsing in front of his bedside table and groping around inside for a vial of the Draught.
Where are they? Where are they I need it I need it I can't breathe -
His fingers finally closed around a cool vial and he dragged it out, pulling out the stopper with barely controlled hands and swallowing down the potion. Some slipped down his chin and he nearly choked as he tried to gasp and drink at the same time, but it slipped into his system. His breathing slowed and the anxiety was forced away by the artificial calm. Awareness came back to him. There were tears and sweat slipping down his face, and a deep ache had taken up residence in his muscles. He was half sprawled against his bed, clinging to the covers with his trembling fingers. His thoughts quietened a little, allowing him to think clearly.
Did I just... drive while having a panic attack? Oh fuck. I hope I didn't cause an accident or something.
He looked around helplessly at his still trashed room, a little lost. There was still and undercurrent of tension, of fear running through his body, and he turned the empty vial over in his hands. Maybe I should take another and just stay home today? No, I need to deal with Remus, work out if he's going to get arrested because of this. But I still feel so shaky, how can I feel so scared after I've had a Draught? I need another one before I can deal with this.
The boy dragged himself onto his bed, idly pushing aside a piece of paper that he almost sat on. He leaned forward to look in his drawer.
Wait, where are the Draughts?
He pulled himself forward and pulled the drawer out, resting it across his lap. He could see a notebook, a few pens, an empty gum wrapper, but there were no Calming Draughts at all.
What-?
Harry tipped the drawer over his bed, onto the piece of paper he'd shoved aside. His eyes caught sight of that now, of a torn scrap of notebook paper that was rippled and distorted as though it had been wet. Harry felt uneasy looking at it, felt strangely nervous and unwilling to look closer. But he picked it up with an unsteady hand and smoothed it out the best he could, holding it up to the light.
It was incomprehensible at first, messy and water-ravaged as it was. The writing on it was smudged and shaky, and the sentences made little sense as it was. The nervousness in Harry's chest faded as words started to jump out at him, as he started to make sense of the madness, and it was replaced by an overwhelming, all-consuming numbness. He read the letter once, then twice, before it finally began to sink in.
Harry,
I can't I can't I have to go, I can't stay here, I can't do this. I can't be your guardian Harry I just can't I'm sorry so sorry
Harry got up off his bed, only vaguely aware that he was moving, and slipped outside his room. He walked calmly down the hallway to Remus's room, noting the empty drawers and stripped bed with detached eyes. The words on the letter circled his head, burned into his mind even as the rest of the world seemed to fall away.
Lily and James would hate me I know they would and Sirius, he would hate me too but I can't do it I have to leave. Please don't hate me too I couldn't bear it even though you should because Ive just been so useless but i can't think or do anything i'm just so scared and hopeless so i'm going.
Harry was in the living room, then in the kitchen, and he didn't remember walking downstairs. That memory lapse didn't seemed to matter much, nor did the fact that he couldn't seem to hear anything over a strange roaring in his ears. He didn't feel anything, couldn't think anything other than replaying and rereading the crumpled paper in his hands.
i needed your draughts harry you don't need them but i do. dont take them, you should never take them because they will destroy you like they did me i can't even think anymore
He was outside - when had he walked outside? But he was outside, near his crookedly parked car, staring across the street to the neat lawns of his neighbours. The sun was bright and the sky was clear - it was a strangely lovely day, considering the time of year. The letter wasn't in his hand anymore - had he put it down? It didn't matter; he could remember it anyway.
i don't know where I'll go but i wont come back, i can't, you'll be fine without me, better without me. I'm sorry, harry, I'm so sorry - Remus
A gentle breeze ruffled Harry's hair, pushing it away from his face. He listened to the roaring in his head, the static, and he stood. He stood for what felt like an hour - or was it a minute? - until a familiar truck was pulling into his driveway. He stared blankly as heavy-booted feet hit the asphalt, as a man in dirty coveralls started cautiously towards him. He just stared as the man's mouth moved, formed words and sounds that Harry couldn't hear, couldn't understand. The man got closer, but hesitated to touch him, his eyes kind and concerned.
The man's mouth was moving, forming familiar shapes that Harry recognised, but just couldn't comprehend. Any sound he was making was dampened by the rushing in Harry's ears. Harry just stood and stared unblinkingly, breathe in, breathe out, quiet in the sunny day and where is the letter? Where did I put it down? Neighbour on the front lawn across the street, getting the mail my car is parked on a sprinkler, I should move it the man in front of him was still speaking, words rolling over Harry's ears and into the ether I need to clean up my room, I left paper on the floor but not the letter, the letter, where did I put the letter-
A warm, strong hand clamped down on Harry's shoulder. It cut through the fog, the roaring, and Harry came crashing back into his body. Burt Hummel looked at him with kind eyes and repeated the words he'd been trying to say for God only knew how long.
"Harry, kid, are you okay?"
"Help me," the words surprised Harry as much as they surprised Burt, but not as much as the tears that suddenly sprung to Harry's eyes and down his face. Every emotion Harry had been too numb to feel was shooting through his veins, making him feel the hurt, the betrayal, the abandonment in every cell of his body. He staggered forward, suddenly as breathless as if he'd been punched in the chest, and grasped Burt's oily coveralls with strong hands. "Please, sir - help me, I can't, I can't I can't-"
"Hey, kid, sweetheart, it's okay," Burt's voice was soothing, paternal, and it broke Harry all the more. The mechanic let the teenager collapse against him, wrapping strong arms around narrow shoulders as Harry shook and sobbed into his chest.
He's gone, he's gone, he's gone, Remus is gone, he left and he's gone and it's all my fault, it's all my fault, I'm alone, I'm alone now there's no one else, no one but Remus and now he's gone and I can't, I can't, I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't deal with this it's too much too much too much.
Fear began to override everything, making Harry's breath come faster and his sobs become rough screams. Burt held him tighter, held the boy against his chest as he cried and screamed.
Alone, alone now, scared, no one, he left me, he left me and now I have no one I'm so scared-
"I can't, I can't," he babbled through his tears, into Burt's chest, gasping breaths between keening sobs. The man made a soothing noise and rubbed a hand against Harry's back.
"You don't have to do anything but breathe, kiddo. Come on now, not that fast, just slow, deep breathes, okay?"
Burt's voice - his soothing, paternal voice - somehow cut through some of the panic that was pressing into Harry's eyes. Harry clung to it, clung to him, forced his breathing to slow.
Pathetic, so pathetic, pathetic little monster. Made Remus run away and then can't even hold himself up. Stupid, pathetic little monster.
Harry's sobs eased a little for a moment, leaving him whimpering into Burt's chest. Harry pulled back a little, looking up at Burt with wide, wild eyes. Words were clawing at his throat, forcing their way out of his mouth, words he'd held in for longer than he could remember. They tumbled out of him without any semblance of order or reason, words that would mean nothing but say everything, "He's gone, he left, they always leave. I didn't - I don't know what I do, I just - I try, I try so hard to be okay but I'm not, I'm not okay and I'm not good and everyone says I am but I'm not because if I was they'd stay but they don't. I'm a monster, I'm a monster, I'm dangerous and everyone should leave and they do and I can't, I can't I can't I can't-"
"Harry, what-" Burt tried to interrupt him, tried to grasp onto the ranting boy's wrist, but Harry pulled away, shaking his head and reaching up to pull at his hair.
"He's gone. Don't you get it? He wrote a note and he left me. He's all I have but he left because I'm bad, I'm bad and he can't deal with me," Harry didn't notice how loud he was talking, how choked up and strangled his words were. He was vaguely aware of the neighbours watching, of Burt looking at him with horror, but he couldn't control it, couldn't contain it, just couldn't stop feeling. "I'm a monster, and people shouldn't - they shouldn't have to deal with me. I should just - I should die, I should just go away and die because then I won't hurt people and I can't, I can't feel like this it's too much-"
He was tearing at his hair, his clothes, his face, fighting off Burt's attempts to hold his hands still. He wanted to shred his skin, tear himself to pieces, and his mind was a whirlwind of fear and rage and a hate so potent he could feel it in his bones.
Monster, murderer, not worth saving, not worth staying for. You made him leave, made him run, monster, monster monster-
"Harry, stop it!" Burt's voice was far away, behind the twisted voice spewing poison in Harry's skull. The man kept trying to grasp his, hold his wrists so he couldn't keep ripping at his skin. "Stop, kid, you're going to hurt yourself. Shit, hold on."
He pulled Harry close to him and pinned the teenager's arms by his sides. Harry should have been stronger; he should have been able to break the man's hold. But his magic wasn't reacting, wasn't helping, and he was so tired, so tired of everything that he just couldn't summon the energy to fight anymore. Harry slumped forward, allowing himself to be caught by the man, allowing himself to be picked up and carried like a child to the Hummel's pick up truck, allowing tears and sobs to wrack him unrestrained and finally, allowing himself to slip into the darkness in his mind, making him oblivious to anything but the words circling in his head.
Monster, monster, monster...
Burt didn't take him back to the Hummel property, not right away. He first drove up to Lima Hospital, and Harry started when they pulled in. No, no hospitals, I can't go to hospital, they'll find out about Remus and they'll send me away and that's where the blood and the fire and the screams are, can't go in, can't go in! Harry choked on a sob and grabbed at the door handle, holding it closed with what little strength he had and throwing Burt a desperate look.
"No, I'm not going in there, I can't," he insisted, his words tumbling over themselves unheeded. When Burt took a deep breath Harry continued, reaching over to grab the man's arm in his small, shaking hand. "No no no, I can't, they'll send me away and I don't like the blood, please don't make me go in there, I can't I can't I can't-"
"Breathe, kiddo," Burt raised a hand to clasp Harry's shoulder, watching as the boy trembled and tried to slow his breathing. His expression was torn between determination and guilt, and his voice was uncharacteristically gentle when he continued. "Harry, you're hurt. The doctors can help you. And I think maybe... you might need their help in - other ways, too."
"They're just bruises," Harry pleaded, trying to scrambled away from the sight of the building; he only succeeded in pushing himself into a ball on the chair. "I got worse as a toddler. They're just bruises. I don't need to go in there. Please don't make me go in there. That's where the fire was - that's where Kingsley was..."
"Harry, stop it," Burt grabbed his hands from where the teenager had been tearing at his face again. "Jesus, okay! I'm not gonna force you. Just - just calm down."
"I'm sorry," Harry apologised, not really knowing why. Tears were leaking down his face again, feeling too hot and raw against his stinging, scratched up cheeks. He whimpered and tried to claw closer to Burt, wanting some of the comfort he'd felt from the man before. "I'm sorry, Burt, I'm so sorry. I just - I just - I can't and I'm scared and I just don't know-"
"Shh, shh, it's all right," Burt undid his seat belt and slid closer to Harry, pulling the tiny teenager against his chest. "Hey, I got you. It's okay. You don't have nothing to be sorry for, you understand me? This is - okay, how about this. You answer some questions, and maybe you don't have to go in the hospital. Is that - can you do that for me, kid?"
"Yeah, I - yeah," Harry nodded, pulling back to look at Burt with wild but earnest eyes. "Anything, just can't go in there."
"Okay," Burt breathed, taking a moment to think. After a hesitation he tried to start. "Okay. You're... how badly hurt are you? You sure they're just bruises?"
"Yeah," Harry nodded, shakily wiping his face before grabbing the hem of his shirt. He started twisting it in his hands, trying to force out some of the burning energy that was bubbling under his skin. "Yeah, just deep bruises. Nothing's broken, no internal bleeding. I've had worse, I've had - so much worse."
Burt shut his eyes at Harry's shaky, uneven words. The boy couldn't really control his voice, his body. The anxiety, that ever present fear that he could usually keep below the surface except for during panic attacks, had over taken him and he found himself twitching and jerking his arms as he tried to hold on. Burt continued.
"Remus did this to you," it wasn't a question, and Harry whimpered, one hand slipping up to tug on his hair. Burt pulled the hand away and spoke a little more firmly. "Harry, you have to answer me."
"Yes," Harry gasped, trying to wrestle his hand back from Burt. "Yes, he did it. He hurt me and he said he never would but he did-"
"Okay, okay," Burt tried to sooth him, sighing in relief as Harry half collapsed against his arms. "Okay, you've told me, it's done. Where is he now, Harry?"
"I don't know," Harry choked out, shaking his head against the arm of Burt's rough coveralls. "I don't know. He just wrote this letter and he left because I shouted at him."
"What? He left?" Burt pulled back, eyes worried again. "You don't mean - he didn't... do something to himself, did he?"
Harry's blood went cold and he started shuddering, "I don't - he just left the house and said he was going but - I didn't think of - oh Merlin, fuck, what if he did? What if he-?"
"No, I just meant - if he didn't say it he probably didn't hurt himself, Harry," Burt tried to reassure the whimpering boy. "You're saying he wrote a note and left - like, ran away?"
"Yeah," Harry gave a little hysterical laugh. "My guardian ran away from home. God, what the fuck is wrong with me?"
"Nothing. There's just something very wrong with him," Burt sighed again, grabbing Harry's hand before it could return to his face. "And he ran off because you shouted at him? When?"
"This morning," Harry whispered, the hysterical humour bleeding out of his voice. "I - it wasn't his fault, you know? That he attacked me. It was the drugs. It's all the drugs, but I - I shouted at him, and told him he was useless, and he was crying but I just kept shouting so he left, he left me-"
"Harry, shit - that's messed up," the mechanic shook his head, a horrified expression twisting his face. "Jesus - teenagers shout sometimes. They get rude and out of line but you don't - you don't abandon them for it. You don't run out on your kid because you can't handle 'em being loud. This is all kinds of wrong, but - but it's all on him, you hear me? This isn't your fault, none of this is your fault."
"I called him pathetic," Harry whimpered, letting a sob fall out of his mouth without thinking. "I called him useless. I - I hurt him so much, why did I -"
"Harry, even if you were outta line - which considering he beat you the night before, I don't think you were - the right response to a teenager bein' like that ain't running and leaving them all alone. Jesus, considering everything you're going through, that shouldn't even - no, he's the only one wrong here, kiddo."
Harry just shook his head and buried his face in his arms. There was a few moments of silence in the car, Burt tapping his fingers against the steering wheel and Harry curling up in his seat. After a moment, Burt continued slowly.
"What do you want to do now, Harry?"
"I want to die," Harry muttered, the words slipping out of him uncensored. He didn't hear Burt's distressed intake of breath as he curled up further, sobs beginning to wrack his body again. "I just - I deserve to die. I'm a monster. I want to die-"
"No, stop that, Harry, fuck," Burt was shifting over in his seat again, grabbing Harry's wrists and tugging the weeping boy to face him. Harry looked up at him desperately, tears burning his eyes and streaking his glasses. Can't can't can't should die, should die, deserve it, I'm a monster- "Take - take a deep breath, Harry. Shit. You do not deserve to die, are you kidding me? You ain't a monster, you're a good kid."
"I hurt people," Harry gasped, ducking his head forward and thumping it against his clenched fists where Burt held them. Hermione Ron Remus Sirius I hurt them, I hurt them. "I just hurt people, I'm so fucking useless."
"I don't believe that," Burt growled, taking both Harry's wrists in one hand so he could grasp the boy's shoulder. "I don't believe that for one goddamn second. You make Kurt so happy, kid. I've seen you two together - I've seen you with all those kids. They love you. You saved Kurt and Rachel's lives, for fucks sake. Finn told me about what happened with that boy at school - okay, that wasn't good. You screwed up. So what? That doesn't make you a bad person."
"It's not all I've done," Harry whispered. He couldn't think straight, couldn't think of statutes and laws and secrets. He just had to make Burt understand that he was wrong; I deserve this. "You don't know - back home, in England, I did things - I hurt people. I wanted to stop here but I can't, it just keeps happening, I don't want to hurt people but I do and Kurt's afraid of me now because I'm dangerous. I'm just dangerous."
Burt didn't answer Harry, and for a wild moment the boy thought the man had understood - he'll leave now, I don't want him to leave but he should, he should- but before Harry could pull back he found a gentle, calloused hand on his chin, tilting his face up to look into Burt's compassionate eyes.
"Kid, there ain't a damn thing you can say that would make me believe that you're as bad as you seem to think. You saved my son. Both of 'em! You make Kurt smile wider than I've seen him do since his mom died. I don't know what you did in England, but I don't really care. As long as you keep treatin' Kurt like you do you can do no wrong, in my book."
"I just want to die," Harry whispered, his voice tiny and his hands trembling. "I hate this - I hate me so much, and I'm so scared, I'm so scared I just don't know what to do-"
"You let me take care of that right now, okay, kiddo?" Burt soothed, easing Harry back against his seat and doing up his seat belt. Harry clawed at it compulsively, tugging on the seat and on his clothes as Burt turned back to the steering wheel. "I'm going to take you back to my place now, okay? You can stay with us until we get this sorted out."
"But Finn's scared of me," Harry muttered in a little voice. Burt shook his head as he pulled out of the parking lot.
"No, he ain't. Kurt called me at work, 'show I knew to come and find you. He was seriously upset that he upset you, Harry. And Finn took the phone off him at one point - he feels really bad about how he's been treating you. Said he didn't understand what Kurt meant when he said you were going through a rough time. He's a good kid, but he's naive, you know? To him a rough time means breaking up with his girlfriend or not being quarterback for a while. He didn't understand just how bad things were for you."
"He's a kid," Harry muttered hoarsely, Burt's voice soothing him a little as they drove along. When he could no longer see the hospital in the rear-view mirror the worst of the trembling stopped, though he still couldn't control the twitching in his arms and hands. Won't stop, won't stop, stupid, so stupid, why won't it stop? "He shouldn't - he shouldn't understand it."
"Yeah, you're probably right," Burt agreed, turning a corner back toward the Hudmel household. "He could still be more sensitive, though."
They lapsed into silence then, Harry still shivering minutely and twitching in his seat, Burt focusing on driving. Harry found himself breaking into a cold sweat when they turned down the Hummel's street as his mind flashed back to the day before, when he was last here. Finn and Kurt shouting, I was tearing them apart, and Remus, Remus was actually okay, he took care of me and then I screwed it all up-
"Hey, Harry, don't you start hyperventilating on me again," Burt reached across the car to take Harry's hand and drag it away from his face as he pulled into the driveway. The mechanic parked the car one handed when Harry clung on, turning the engine off with a sigh. "Looks like Kurt and Finn are home - musta skipped off school. Think I'll let 'em this once. Kurt's probably frantic."
Harry let go of the man reluctantly when he opened the driver's side door, staying curled up in his seat until the man came around to get him. He allowed Burt to help him out of the car, compulsively clinging to him like a spider monkey when he hit the ground - he felt like his legs would give out at any minute. Burt half-carried, half-dragged Harry to the front door, opening it mainly with his shoulder. The voices that had been slipping under the door suddenly went silent, and from under his matted hair Harry could see Kurt and Finn, pale faced and shaken, hovering in the middle of the living room. Both boys took steps towards Harry at once, but Harry cringed back and curled against Burt's side. He felt Burt's other arm move and heard Kurt and Finn's footsteps stop.
"Harry?" Kurt's voice was tentative, and Harry couldn't bring himself to look him in the eye. "Dad? What happened?"
"Can you two sit down? Don't crowd him," Burt sighed and pushed Harry a little further back. When Harry began to shake harder he put a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder and leaned closer. "I'm guessing you don't feel up to explaining? They gotta know at least some of it."
Harry shook his head frantically, compulsively pushing his hair off his face. Burt just patted him on of the shoulder and started slowly guiding him to the couch. Harry curled up the second he hit the comforting fabric, digging his fingers into its softness and tucking his chin behind his knees.
"Dude, what's wrong? Is he okay?" Finn wondered, and Harry could vaguely hear a thump that indicated that Kurt may have hit him. Burt sighed.
"No, Finn, he's not. Look, I need you two to sit down and stay calm, okay? Harry's going to be staying here for a while."
"It's Remus, isn't it? What did he do, Harry? I swear, if he hurt you again..." Kurt almost snarled. Harry cringed away from the harsh noise, even as a part of him wanted to reach out to his boyfriend. He wants to help, he wants to protect, deserves better than me but he wants me, he wants me, I want him too, Kurt...
"Hey," Burt cut his son off firmly, shifting on the couch. As Harry continued to glance up at Kurt on and off, trying to work out if he could safely reach out and grab at him, the mechanic continued. "Remus is gone, Kurt. He took off, left Harry behind. He ain't coping so well, so he's going to stay here until we work something else out."
"He, like, ran away?" Finn sounded astounded, and beside him Kurt began to hiss curses in French under his breath. "But he's Harry's guardian, he can't - holy shit, who does that?"
Kurt cut himself off mid-curse and took a deep breath, "Okay, that's - okay. I mean, it's not okay, it's pretty much the worst thing he could have done short of shooting Harry or something, but we can deal with this. When you say not coping, you mean...?"
"I think," Burt said carefully, and Harry could feel their eyes on him. He curled up tighter, burying his face against his knees and trying to block out the room. "That it would be fair to say that Harry's having a bit of a breakdown."
Harry felt hysterical laughter bubbling up in his chest at Burt's delicate words. Yes, yes that would be fair to say. I can't control my body, I can't control my brain, and I honestly and seriously and really really really want to jump off of a high place right now. I'm not okay, I'm so not okay, I can't I can't I can't -the laughter erupted out of his mouth in a strangled sort of sob, and his shoulders shook with humorless giggles as the men around him went quiet.
"Harry?" Kurt's voice was gentle, soothing, and Harry felt the laughter begin to dissolve into weak sobs. "Harry, are you...?"
Kurt trailed off, obviously aware that there wasn't anything he could say. Harry felt his body begin to tremble as he wept again, and he glanced up to catch Kurt's gaze. His boyfriend's blue-green eyes shone with fear and hurt and barely held-back rage, and Harry couldn't help but reach out one trembling hand towards him. Kurt responded immediately, taking Harry's hand and squeezing it tightly.
"It's going to be okay, sweetheart," the taller boy whispered, his high voice trembling and sweet. "I promise you, we'll fix this."
"He took my pills, Kurt," Harry whispered back, the thought hitting him and pushing more tears from his eyes. "My medication - he took all of it for himself."
Kurt's eyes widened, but after a moment his expression hardened, "It doesn't matter. We'll work through it, Harry. We can do this."
"I don't want to," Harry muttered nonsensically, turning his head away and back again. "I don't want to do - I just want to die, Kurt. I made him leave. I made him leave me. I deserve to-"
"Oh no you don't," Harry found himself being snatched into Kurt's arms, off the couch and on to his boyfriend's lap. "You don't get to talk like that, Harry Potter. You don't get to think like that. You didn't make him leave. You don't deserve to suffer like this. And you're not allowed to die."
Kurt pressed Harry's face close into his shoulder, and the wizard could feel the way Kurt shook under him. The warmth he felt here, Kurt's arms around him and his heartbeat near his ear, made him feel, just for a moment, like maybe his boyfriend was right. The fearful, painful thoughts didn't stop though, kept pressing through and into Harry's mind like little pinpricks.
"You were scared," he murmured, trying to pull away. His hands started compulsively picking at themselves again, at his clothes and his skin as his anxiety rose again. "You flinched when I just moved-"
"Harry, I don't know if you've noticed but I'm kind of a highly-strung person," Kurt huffed, tugging Harry back and digging his fingers into Harry's arms to pin him in place. "I'm jumpy. So sue me. I'd flinch if anyone raised their hand like that, even if I knew that they weren't going to hit me. I'm more afraid of - of - of Brittany than I am of you. I know you wouldn't hurt me."
"I don't deserve you," Harry whispered into Kurt's neck, barely aware that he was speaking. Kurt snorted.
"You're right. I think you deserve better. But you're stuck with me, Harry Potter, because I am crazy about you, and even if-if-if the Princess of Perfect-Land crashes this party wanting to sweep you off your feet or whatever I am going to fight for you because I want you, I want to be with you, and I am not letting you go anywhere until you believe that," Kurt took a deep, gasping breath at the end of his speech, and for a moment the other three men just stared at him, reeling. Even Harry couldn't help but glance up to look into Kurt's wild, passionate eye. The pale boy was breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed pink and his mouth open slightly, like he couldn't really believe he'd said all of that. Harry's lips twitched upward in a weak, short smile, before he tucked his head back against Kurt's chest.
"Right," Burt eventually began again, exchanging a bemused glance with Finn. "Well - you three don't have to go back to school today-"
"Oh my God, I totally forgot we even had school."
"Me too! Rachel's going to be furious."
"Yeah, well, you're going tomorrow so don't get too excited. Harry, I was thinking you'd stay in Kurt's room, and he'd have the couch," Burt rolled his eyes at Kurt and Finn's interruption, and pointed at Harry when he shifted uncomfortably. "And I'm sure Kurt don't mind, so don't even think about protesting."
"Of course I don't mind," Kurt huffed, running his fingers through Harry's hair. Harry leaned into the touch automatically, his hands clenching around handfuls of Kurt's expensive sweater. He could feel the material pull under his fingers but he couldn't make his grip loosen - every attempt just made his arms spasm.
Out of control, I can't control any of it, hate this, hate this hate this hate this. Stupid body, stupid brain, stupid Remus, Remus Remus left me, he left me behind because I'm bad, I'm bad, he's gone everyone leaves-
"Harry?" Kurt's soothing, loving voice broke into Harry's deteriorating thoughts. "Harry, you're going to stay in my room, okay?"
Harry tried to pull away, out of Kurt's warm arms. Don't deserve this, don't deserve comfort, don't deserve him-
"Harry," Kurt's voice was a little sharper, and Harry's weak struggling ended. "You're staying in my room. I want you to stay in my room. You're going to stay here with us until you feel better, okay?"
"'m never going to feel better," Harry whimpered, twisting in Kurt's grip. "'m broken, Kurt, I should just - I should just -"
"You should just trust me when I say you're not broken and you don't deserve to die," Kurt interrupted, the sharpness of his voice ruined by an audible shudder. Harry felt little drops of wet hit his scalp as Kurt's voice got more and more unsteady, and the wizard tried to curl up against himself as strong arms tightened around him. "We're going to get through this. I know that you're going to be w-withdrawing from those s-stupid pills he gave you, but you can get over them. You can get over this. I'm not giving up on you Harry Potter, never. You've given me too much and I love you too much to let you self-destruct now."