A/N: Happy Christmas everyone, I hope you all had a good one.

I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed this and made me feel better about myself and my writing. I loved writing this chapter, I don't know why there was something there that made me go 'I think I'm onto something good here' I hope you all feel the same.

A big thank you to my special Beta, SameHere who even after having a crazy stressful couple of busy days ahead of her still had time to do this for me :D

Warnings: Bullying, Sex.

Chapter 4

Kurt is dizzy as he walks down the halls, his head spinning with confusion. He still didn't understand why Mr. Anderson is so nice to him. Thoughts about him went round and round in his head so loudly that they were blocking anything else that might get to him. The voice was eerily quiet, but Kurt didn't question it; didn't have the energy to. Kurt fiddled with his hands at his sides, his fingers picking at each other as he made his way to his locker; finished for the day he needed to get his books and then he could go home. Kurt didn't normally bother getting books and taking his homework home, everyone doubted him at school, there was no point in him doing extra work if they all believed he would fail no matter what. But something had changed today, Mr. Anderson had changed him. He had given him confidence in himself, made him want to do better in school. Kurt had no idea how or what it was about Mr. Anderson that made him feel like this, but he didn't want to question, because he didn't want to deny himself of this feeling.

"There he is!" Angry voices shocked Kurt out of his thoughts. He snapped his head up quickly, but he already knew who it was. Behind him jocks were moving quickly towards him, all with angry scowls, but none of them compared to the two jocks at the front - the two jocks that Mr. Anderson had pulled out of his classroom and suspended from their next game. A shiver of pure fear ran down Kurt's spine, paralysing his legs in place. Frozen to the spot, Kurt wouldn't have been able to run even if he had wanted to; the jocks were coming at him fast now. Before he knew it he had been pushed to the floor, his head hitting the cold concrete with a loud thump causing his teeth to clatter. Tears stung his eyes, his vision blurred as he tried to clear it. Blue lockers pooled around him as he tried to focus. "You're pathetic." A foot kicked him back in place, he heard a sickening crack of his ribs and he screamed out in pain. The jeers of the jocks around him blocked his scream; not that any one would come running once the screams were coming from him.

"Scream all you want freak, no one is coming to save you." The jock who had kicked him laughed, mirroring Kurt's own thoughts. "Mr. Anderson can't protect you forever. He'll soon see just how pathetic you are."

"He won't!" Kurt said through his tears, not even aware he had spoken till he felt a rough hand at his mouth, squeezing it shut.

"Shut up. If I wanted you to speak I'd tell you." Nails dug at his skin and fresh tears fell down his cheeks. Kurt had no idea how long the beating went on, he felt as though it had lasted an eternity. There wasn't one part of his body that wasn't aching. Getting bored with his grunts of pain, the jocks backed off him. They looked down at his bruised and broken body and laughing they walked away from him, leaving him crying and alone on the cold corridor floor.

Kurt stood up slowly, a whimper of pain leaving his mouth as his body protested every move he made. He didn't go to his locker, he went straight out of the school, his right leg dragging on the floor, in too much pain to be lifted off the floor. Kurt had no idea how he made it the seven blocks to his house. The normal 15 minute walk took over an hour and as he opened the door his body sagged forward with exhaustion. He vaguely heard his father pottering around in the kitchen, normally he would go over and say hello to him, to try for some conversation, to get something out of him other then the odd grunt. But Kurt couldn't, not now. It wasn't that he was scared of what his father would make of the bruises, it was that he was scared that he wouldn't care at all. He made the slow descent down to his bedroom and shut the door. He laid on his bed, too tired to get undressed and squeezed his eyes shut hoping that his tears would burn out the pictures of the boys that had hurt him. They didn't.

Kurt couldn't escape the jocks in his sleep either. As his body twisted and jerked on his bed, his body was pinned down in his dreams. One jock had a knife to his throat, Kurt had no idea where it had come from but he could feel the sharp point of it digging into his pale skin. He thrashed viscously trying to pull away from it. He might hate the life that he had been dealt, but he didn't want to die.

"I'm not going to protect you forever." Mr. Anderson was there now, it wasn't the jocks who had the knife to him, it was his curly haired teacher with the kind honey eyes. Only now his eyes weren't kind at all, they were dark, menacing, evil.

"You..." Kurt whispered, his body still as the knife dug harder.

"Why should I protect someone as pathetic and worthless as you?" Kurt didn't know what happened next, he woke up screaming.

Kurt was trembling as he pushed his body into a sitting position. He could feel the glisten of sweat dripping down his back through his clothes and he felt dirty and disgusting. He wanted to shower but he didn't think he could get to the bathroom without crumpling to the ground. Licking his lips trying to get some moisture, slowly he headed upstairs. As he walked his knee screamed; that had been just one of the places where the jocks had kicked him, crushing his leg to the floor in hard football cleats, eventually Kurt made it to the living area, sounds coming from the sofa area made him stop dead. Panting, moaning, grunts filled the air. The smell of sex made his stomach turn.

"Fuck that's good." It was his father's voice. Kurt squeezed his hands over his ears, he didn't want to hear this; he couldn't hear it.

"Burt..." The sounds of skin on skin stopped and Kurt realised that the woman was staring right at him, something between concern and annoyance in her eyes.

Kurt saw Burt's eyes flash for a moment with concern, as if he was worried about what might have happened to his son, but then Kurt noticed the woman's thighs clenching tightly and he lost his father's attention once again. Kurt could lay odds that Burt had just met this woman last night, wondered if Burt even knew her name, and yet she still held more power over him than his son's obvious injuries. "Go back to your room." Burt grunted. Kurt turned and ran back downstairs, the pain in his leg forgotten as he threw himself on his bed.

"He doesn't care about you, Kurt." The voice was soft this time, oddly comforting. Kurt imagined it's arms wrapped around him, holding him safe. "Neither does Mr. Anderson, all you have is me." Kurt squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He nodded his head, he could practically feel the soft touch of a hand on his skin as he gave in completely to the voice. "I'll look after you now. Just you and me." Kurt nodded again, letting the voice lull him into a dreamless sleep.