7

Dying Embers

"Sebastian Smythe," the boy said, smirking at Blaine, appraising him. Blaine ignored him completely, looking to Wes.

"Since when did we just let people in without a meeting?" He growled. Wes scoffed.

"We did," Thad interjected. "You were busy with that-"

"Shut it," he snarled, turning to Sebastian. "So, can you sing?"

"Obviously. That's kinda how I got in," he chortled. Blaine sneered, in no mood for anyone's cocky attitude or the banter that this son of a bitch was going for.

"So why are you here, Smythe?" He growled. His smirk grew.

"Couple reasons," he said, ignoring the other Warblers in the room and walking closer to him. "One: I like to sing. Two: I was in a glee club at my old school. And three…" He looked him up and down again. "I heard that sex on a stick Blaine Anderson was in this one, and I really wanted to meet you."

"Aw, Blaine," Nick cooed. "Looks like you've got a groupie." Sebastian's smirk faltered a bit. Blaine turned back to Wes, almost ignoring him completely.

"We already had enough members, why do we need him?" He wondered.

"Flynt got arrested last night. We needed a tenor to make up for him," he shrugged. "Sebastian came and auditioned while you were on your date last night and we let him in."

"How'd that go, by the way?" David asked. "The date, I mean?"

Blaine shook his head, going toward the door. "I'll see you guys later."

"Where are you going?" Jeff asked. "We need to practice."

"I'm more than ready for Sectionals. Show Smythe what he needs to do so he doesn't look like a total fuck-head when we get up there." He slammed the door, guilt heavy on his heart. He needed to talk to Kurt, and if he was going to ignore his phone calls and text messages, then he was going to go see him.

Son of a bitch, Kurt thought, lying on his back in the dumpster. Getting thrown into the dumpster wasn't that big of a deal, other than the smell and not knowing whether or not he was going to stick his hand in week-old pudding, but it was getting out of the dumpster that was the hard part.

He sat up, finding the edge and gauging what would be the best way to get over this thing without falling on his face…again.

Okay, Kurt, he thought, taking a deep breath. Just swing your legs over and jump down. It's easy. You can do it.

He took a deep breath, his elbow aching from where he'd rammed it falling into it. He positioned himself in what he hoped was a good angle to jump down, swallowing hard.

He slipped.

His heart flew into his throat, muscles tensing all at once and bracing for hitting the ground and hurting himself. Maybe he'd break his arm again-

"Whoa!" A familiar voice said, catching him. "I gotcha, Kurt," Sam said, holding his shoulders and settling him to the ground. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he whispered. "Thanks." He moved to right his sunglasses, wincing when he felt unknown gunk sticking to him. "Can you point me in the direction of the bathroom?" He whispered.

"Yeah, uh, I'll take you," he said, half-smiling, wishing he could do a something more than just guide him somewhere he could get cleaned up. "So, what were you doing in the dumpster?"

Kurt scoffed. Thanks for paying attention. "Football players that don't care for my orientation threw me in," he said, trying not to be as sharp as he wanted to. Sam paused, suddenly outraged.

"What?" He exclaimed. "They-"

"Sam, I don't know what rock you live under at this school, but this happens to me at least once a week," he snapped, shaking his head and breaking away from him, recognizing where he was by the acoustics. Sam frowned again, pursing his large lips.

"Kurt, I…I'm sorry," he mumbled. Kurt shook his head.

"No, it…it's alright. Thanks," he sighed, turning into the bathroom. Sam followed, obviously not getting the hint from that he wanted to be alone. "Why are you following me?"

"I said I was gonna help you, so I am," he assured. Kurt pursed his lips, trying to keep his anger under control.

"I'm not helpless, Sam. I can clean myself up, okay? Just…" He rubbed his temples, so tired of the pain he received from bullying and the pain in his heart where Blaine had scarred it. "I appreciate you helping me, but I really want to be alone now."

Sam looked at his friend, who was standing with such awful agony in his eyes. "Is this about that guy you were seeing?"

Kurt jumped, staring up at him. "Who-who told you about that?"

"Finn," he said simply. "He was trying to figure out what he could do to help you out when you were seeing him, so he asked the glee guys for some advice." Kurt was suddenly murderously angry, face turning red immediately.

"Damn it…" He shook his head. "Don't worry about me, Sam." He turned and went into the bathroom before he could say anything else.

Blaine looked around, watching the children leave the high school, getting into their respective modes of transportation to get hone, searching for one well-dressed brunette that outshone all the rest.

He waited, watching as the throng of children dwindled to a spare few before going inside, deciding to look for Kurt himself.

He wandered through the halls, still searching, even listening for that sweet countertenor voice. He was just about to turn a corner when he stopped short.

He was still at his locker, piling books into his bag, beautiful as ever in a navy blue sweater and incredibly tight black pants that buttoned in the back. He didn't know which was better, the pants or the calf-high boots that went with them.

"Kurt!" He called, jogging toward him.

The pale boy froze upon hearing that voice in his never-ending darkness. He quickly closed his bag, shutting his locker and walking away from him. "Kurt, wait!"

"Go away," he tried to say forcefully, but all that came out was a quiet squeak that he surely didn't hear.

"Kurt, please, listen to me for just a second," he pleaded. Kurt shook his head, his heart aching from the reopened scars that Blaine had torn again.

"No." He was beside him now, invading Kurt's overly sensitive senses with his intoxicating cologne.

"Please-"

"No," he was forcing his voice to stay strong. "No, Blaine. You obviously don't want to be anywhere near me. You don't care about me. You wouldn't have said that if you did."

"Kurt, you don't understand, I-"

"HEY!"

Kurt fought the urge to hide his face in his hands, knowing his step-brother and probably Rachel were coming toward them.

"Finn-"

Blaine stood his ground, glowering at the giant he'd already had an altercation with in the past, ignoring the hobbit trailing being him. Finn got down and close to his face, threatening him. "Get the hell away from my brother."

"You can't tell me what to do, asshole," he barked. Rachel watched Kurt stand off to the side, shaking his head, angry, frustrated tears in his eyes.

"Finn, maybe we should-" She tried tugging his arm. He ignored her as well.

"Maybe not, but you don't scare me. Now you get the hell out of here and don't come near my brother again!"

"Finn, shut up!" Kurt demanded. "Blaine, go home!"

"Kurt, I just want to talk to you," Blaine said, his tone gentler than when he spoke to Finn again. "So give us some privacy!"

"YOU GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"

"WHAT'S GOING ON?" Sue bellowed, stalking down the hallway.

"Nothing, Coach Sylvester," Finn said, smirking and glowering all at once. "Blaine was just leaving."

The leather-clad boy scowled, his eyes dark and murderous as he turned away, only faltering when his fingers brushed Kurt's hand as he passed.

Kurt winced at his touch, wishing his heart didn't want him to go after him and say he forgave him and just wanted to stay in his arms and forget all of this. That's all he wanted.

He had to stay where he was.

This is real life, Kurt. This is real life, with real emotions and real things that just can't disappear because you're so lonely you can't breathe.

He waited until he knew Blaine was out of sight before he slammed his fists into Finn's chest, ignoring that Sue was even there, so overcome with anger and pain.

"You stupid son of a bitch!" He bellowed, feeling him fall back, surprised by the sudden blow.

"Whoa, Porcelain!" Sue tugged him back. Rachel covered her mouth, lost.

"What did I do!" Finn exclaimed. "I was just trying to-"

"STAY OUT OF MY LIFE!" He screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks. "God, Finn, just because I'm blind doesn't mean that I need someone holding my hand the whole way!" He jabbed a finger into his chest. "What happens between Blaine and I is my business and my business alone! And I'd appreciate it if you cared a little more about what I tell you in confidence and not blab it to the ENTIRE GLEE CLUB!"

Finn remained speechless, as did Sue and Rachel. Kurt took a breath, tears streaming down his face.

"I'm sorry-"

"Just leave, me, alone." He turned, stalking away, face screwed up in pain. Rachel jogged after him, waiting until he was outside with a few gulps of fresh air in him before she spoke.

"Kurt?" She said softly, walking closer to him. His head was bowed, eyes closed and burning. Slowly, she pulled him into a hug, closing her own eyes when he collapsed against her, sobbing. "Shh…shh…I know. I know…"

She didn't. She didn't know what it was like to be tormented, stalked and tortured by those apes every day. She didn't know what it was like to be pining for someone that had hurt you and just want to curl up in his arms and stay there.

But at least she was there.

"He was just trying to help," she whispered. He buried his face in her hair, thankful that he at least had a friend.

"I know, I know," he gulped. "But it hurts…"

"Shh, shh…"

Blaine kicked and cursed and spat, finally screaming up at the heavens and collapsing against the brick. "God- FUCK!" He bellowed, rage and something close to sobbing that he forced himself to ignore. "I just wanted to talk to him," he breathed. "I just wanted to talk to him…"

He wondered what would have happened if Kurt had talked to him. He saw him as he closed his eyes, that boy who was usually so full of life with light illuminating his gorgeous eyes looked nothing like that today. He looked scared and hurt.

You did that, he chastised, closing his eyes. You hurt him. Stay away from him, Blaine. You'll only hurt him worse than you already have.

The lump in his throat was harder to swallow than usual, but he did.

Stay away from him.

"I can't."