A/N So, I left off rather dramatically on the previous chapter, devious little me. You'll learn Kurt's fate in this chapter, but I just wanted to give a warning that there is talk of sexual assault, so if this is a Trigger for you, please proceed with caution.
Connection
The sound of shoes squeaking as they moved rapidly across a floor.
An indistinguishable shout.
An upset voice, high pitched and frightened. "Leave me alone! I don't want you anywhere near me!"
Another voice, gruff, angry. "Come off it, stop pretending. You know you want me."
The sound of fabric ripping.
"Get your hands off me! I hate you! I don't want you touching me!"
A struggle. More tearing sounds. A scream suddenly cut off by the sound of something heavy slamming into metal. A disoriented whimper.
A choked sob, a grunt, and then someone gagging.
"There, that's better. See? I knew you wanted it."
The gagging sound continues, accompanied by heavy breathing...
…
Three and a half hours earlier...
"And the 2011 Regional Champions are...The New Directions!"
Kurt was smothered in hugs from Mercedes, Tina, and Brittany as they all jumped up and down joyfully. They'd done it! They'd won! They were going to New York!
They shook hands with the Warblers, as well as Aural Intensity, who had taken third place. Blaine hugged him and whispered in his ear how proud he was of him. Kurt was giddy with happiness.
The hour long ride back to McKinley was a blur, everyone shouting and singing, even dancing in their seats. Back in the choir room, they celebrated with sparkling cider, sodas, and snacks that Ms. Pillsbury provided. They changed into their street clothes, no one seemed ready to stop partying just yet, but after a couple hours, they began leaving, one by one.
"Damn it, I've got a soda stain on my shirt," Kurt mumbled to Mercedes. They were the only ones left besides Santana and Brittany, who were just leaving. "I need to change."
"I can wait for you if you want?" Mercedes offered.
"No, you go on. I'll be fine. It's Saturday and we're the only ones in the school. I'll call you later."
"Ok, White Boy. Be safe." She kissed his cheek before gathering up her bag and heading for the door.
Kurt made his way toward his locker, where he always had a spare set of clothes. He was halfway there when he heard the footsteps behind him. He glanced back, thinking it was one of the other Glee kids, but what he saw made his heart skip a beat. Way down at the far end of the hallway was Karofsky, his eyes fixed on Kurt.
Kurt began to move faster, slipping his phone from his pocket. He was going to dial 911, but tears blinded him and his fingers were shaking too much from fear. He jabbed blindly at the screen, the hope being that the monster behind him would leave him alone if he was on the phone, not wanting anyone to know what he was doing. Kurt heard the ringing on the other end of the line. He thought someone answered, but he couldn't be too sure, because that was when the nightmare reached him.
…
Blaine slammed into Wes' room across the hall without knocking. "Call the police!" He still had his cell phone glued to his ear, and felt like he was going to vomit at the sounds he was hearing.
To Wes' credit, he dialed his phone immediately without asking questions. As soon as he'd hit send, he handed the phone over to the curly haired boy.
"911, what is the emergency?"
"I'm on the phone with my friend and someone is assaulting him."
"Do you know where your friend is?"
"I don't know for sure, he may be at William McKinley High School in Lima. They just won a competition and were going back there to celebrate. I don't know if he's still there or not. His phone is still on, I can hear them. It sounded like he was slammed into the lockers."
Wes, watched the younger male, saw the fear in his eyes.
"Ok, stay on the line while I contact the Lima PD and have them dispatch a unit to the school."
Blaine paced anxiously, still hearing those awful sounds coming from his cell phone. His heart nearly broke when he heard what sounded like a brief struggle, and then what sounded like someone getting slapped. Hard. Then that disgusting voice raised in anger, "Stop fighting! Why are you making things so difficult for yourself?"
Blaine fell to his knees, feeling so helpless.
"Sir?" The 911 operator came back on the line.
He took a ragged breath, wiping tears from his eyes. "Yeah?"
"Ok, there is a unit around the block, they'll be at the school in just a minute. While we're waiting, I need to get some information from you. First off, I need your name, and the name of your friend."
"My name is Blaine. Blaine Anderson. My friend is Kurt Hummel."
The operator asked him a few more questions, and he answered as best he could, until a sound from the other phone drew his attention. Grunting noises, and then the sound of someone retching.
"Mr. Anderson? Are you still there?"
"Yeah, uh, I can still hear them. The phone line is still open."
"What can you hear?"
Blaine listened for a moment. "The guy who attacked him is talking, but I can't understand what he's saying, it's too quiet. My friend is crying, and I think he may be vomiting. Oh god, please, he needs help!"
"The police are inside the building now, Mr. Anderson. If he's there they'll find him."
As if on cue, Blaine could hear shouts coming from the phone now.
…
Kurt hurt everywhere, but it really wasn't registering. He felt so cold and numb. Karofsky was saying something to him, but he didn't hear it. Shock was setting in fast. He wasn't aware of the shouts, the scuffle as the police officer tackled his attacker. Someone knelt down beside him, carefully avoiding the puddle of vomit. He thought someone said his name.
Nothing registered. His mind shut down completely. Someone touched his arm. He flinched and threw himself back, slamming into the bottom row of lockers and curling himself into a ball. More people crowded into the hallway.
An officer found the cell phone laying on the ground a few feet away, noting that the line was still open. He placed it to his ear. "Hello, Mr. Anderson?"
…
Blaine gripped the phone tighter when he heard the unfamiliar voice. "Yes! Is Kurt there? Is he ok? Oh god, someone needs to tell his Dad!"
"We'll handle that. Your friend is in shock right now. Paramedics are taking care of him. You did the right thing, calling the police and staying on the line with your friend. I'm going to hang up now. This phone will be bagged for evidence. An officer should be arriving at your location soon to take your statement. You should have your parents or someone there with you when you talk to them."
Blaine thanked the officer and shut the phone off finally. The dispatch operator asked him a couple more questions before disconnecting. Blaine sagged down, burying his face in the rug as he began to cry harder. Wes knelt beside him and hugged him, rubbing his hand soothingly over his back.
He cried until he ran out of tears, and then fell into a fitful sleep on the floor. Wes slipped a pillow under his head, and covered him with a blanket. He retrieved his phone and went out into the hallway, closing the door partway, but leaving a crack so he could keep an eye on his friend.
The first call he made was to the Admin building, letting them know that a police officer would be coming to the school, and explaining why. The second call was to David, explaining what had happened. He asked David to let the Warblers know that there had been an incident, but not to go into detail. His last call was to his Dad, who was an attorney. He'd asked him to contact Blaine's parents and meet them at the school.
…
Burt was just locking up the garage for the night when the phone next to the register rang. Usually he wouldn't answer the phone at this time, but rather let it go to voice mail. If it was an emergency call, there was an after hours number provided. Tonight, however, he picked up the receiver.
"Hummel Tire and Lube, this is Burt. How can I help you?"
"Mr. Hummel?"
Ten minutes later Burt raced into the ER, straight to the admissions desk. "I'm looking for my son, Kurt Hummel, they were bringing him in in an ambulance!"
The nurse behind the desk typed something in on her computer. "The ambulance just pulled in. They'll be bringing him through in just a minute. I'll have someone bring you back as soon as he's in his room."
He was about to respond when a voice called from the direction of the elevators.
"Burt!" Carole rushed towards him, still wearing her pediatric scrubs. "Kendra called me when she heard there was a patient coming in named Hummel. What happened? Is he okay?"
"I don't know, they're just offloading him from the ambulance now. The police said someone assaulted him at the school."
"Mr. Hummel?" A pretty young blond nurse said from the doorway to his left. He turned to her quickly. "Your son is in trauma room nine. I'll show you where that is."
"Is he ok?" Burt asked, walking quickly towards her.
"All I can tell you for now is that he is in shock. The doctor is in there with him now. They can answer your questions."
…
Blaine was stiff and sore, and so exhausted, but he didn't care. All he could think of was the pale boy with the amazing eyes. By the time the officer arrived, along with Wes' Dad, (his parents where in Columbus at some charity dinner and couldn't be reached,) and he'd given his statement, it was nearing midnight, much too late to make the two hour drive to Lima.
Wes and David had taken turns sitting up with him through the night, both had tried to assure him that Kurt would be okay, that the police had caught the bastard that had hurt him. Blaine appreciated their company and their attempts to comfort him, but his mind wouldn't stop trying to illustrate what the sounds he had heard might actually have been. At one point he got up and excused himself to the bathroom, were he proceeded to dry heave into the toilet.
He almost felt as he'd been violated along with his friend. He couldn't imagine what Kurt must be feeling right now.
As soon as the sun was up Sunday morning, Nick and Jeff had offered to drive him to Lima. He accepted, certain he wouldn't be able to drive himself but wanting to see Kurt. Wes and David followed behind with Thad and Trent.
When they arrived, they found most of New Directions sitting in the waiting room. Mercedes was sobbing hard into Quinn's shoulder while the blond girl whispered soothingly to her. Tina sat on her other side, also crying softly, her hand on the darker girl's back.
Sam, Mike, and Puck were pacing, while Artie tapped nervously on his wheels. There was no sign of Finn, but since he was family he was probably in with Kurt and his parents. Rachel was also missing, but Brittany and Santana were walking towards them from the direction of the cafeteria, each of them carrying a tray of coffee. They were the first ones to spot Blaine and the other Warblers.
"Preppy! What are you doing here?" Santana's usually bitchy voice actually seemed subdued today.
Blaine opened his mouth, but had to swallow the lump there before he could speak. "I, uh, I was on the phone with Kurt when he was attacked. I heard everything. Does anyone know how he's doing?"
"They have him sedated," Rachel's voice came from behind him. She'd apparently been in the gift shop. She was holding a small teddy bear that had a vase in its paws, which held an arrangement of sunflowers and foliage. There was a card on a plastic stick that read 'We Love You, Get Well Soon."
"His Dad and Carole and Finn are in there right now. They should be out in a few minutes, and then the doctor said a few of us could go in and see him, but he'll probably be asleep the whole time."
Blaine nodded, and he and the other Warblers went to sit down, except Wes, who offered to get him and the other Dalton boys coffee.
Mercedes sobbed harder when she saw Blaine. "Oh god, I shouldn't have left him! No one else was supposed to be in the school! I thought he was safe!"
Blaine moved to kneel in front of her. "Hey, shh! You didn't do anything wrong! The police said the guy had been following Kurt for days, just waiting for him to be alone. If you had been there, Karofsky would have just waited for another time. They said they found stuff in his car that indicated he was ready to break into his house if he had the chance. The bastard is sick. None of this is your fault!"
He leaned in and hugged the girl. She sobbed again, hugging him back tight. "What about you? Are you okay? Did you really hear what happened?"
Blaine fought down the bile in his stomach, and nodded. "I'm not gonna lie, it was pretty bad. I'm not going to go into detail, though. If Kurt wants to tell you about it, that's up to him. As for me, I don't think I'll ever stop hearing those sounds. I wanted to jump through the phone and beat the crap out of that asshole. I just felt so useless."
"You're not useless. You probably saved my son's life, getting the police there so quickly."
Blaine turned around to see a middle aged man standing behind him, still wearing grease stained overalls with the Hummel Tire and Lube logo on the breast pocket. He was a bear of a man, with a balding head partially hidden by a ball cap with the same logo on it.
"Mr. Hummel!" Blaine fought not to start bawling as he faced Kurt's Dad.
"I'm assuming you're Blaine Anderson, correct? Officer Daniels said you were the one who called them about the attack. It's good to meet you. Kurt told me about you a few weeks ago. Thank you for what you did for my boy."
"I only wish I could have done more for him, sir. And I'm glad to meet you too, although I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances." He reached out to shake the man's hand, only to find himself drawn into a bear hug.
"Call me Burt. Sir was my Dad."
Carole turned to the other teens waiting. "The Doctor said you can go in four at a time, and only for fifteen minutes each. Finn can show you where the room is."
Mercedes, Tina, Quinn and Rachel went first, with the latter carrying the teddy bear. Blaine waited until all of New Directions had gone in before finding himself sitting next to the boy who had sang so amazingly the day before.
There was a bandage above his left eye, and the skin around that gorgeous orb was black and blue and greenish. Both top and bottom lips were split. His left shoulder was wrapped in an A.C.E bandage, as was the wrist. An IV line was taped to the back of his right hand. There were lines attached to a monitor behind him, tracking his blood pressure and pulse ox levels.
Blaine reached out and took the hand closest to him, careful not to jar the IV line. "I'm so sorry, Kurt. I wish I could have been there to protect you."
Kurt began to stir on the bed, and slowly opened his eyes. He sleepily smiled when he saw the other boy. "Blaine," he murmured softly and let his eyes drift closed again. They opened again a moment later, blinking in confusion.
Blaine watched as memory returned to the pale skinned boy, saw the terror fill those glasz eyes. Blaine leapt to his feet as Kurt threw himself to the other side of the bed and vomited over the railing.
