A/N: Thank you guys for all your kind words, I had planned to get this up for Tuesday but I had a random burst of productivity and my beta is awesome to get it back straight away. Thanks Shelly :) x

Chapter 10

"I'm ready to talk," was what Kurt had said ten minutes ago, and since then he hadn't said anything. Blaine really hoped that Kurt would start talking soon, the silence that was once comforting and easy was becoming cold and awkward. Blaine leaned forward and pressed a soft hand on Kurt's knee, squeezing it gently, Kurt looked up at him, his eyes wide and innocent.

"I don't know where to start," Kurt whispered, his teeth scraping over his lip, chewing it nervously.

"Why don't you start with the bruises, who did that to you, Kurt?" Blaine asked quietly, he wasn't too sure he was ready to know the answer. If it was someone at home, it would take a lot for Blaine to do something about it. It would take time too, Social Services would be involved and Blaine knew that could make it even worse for Kurt. If it was someone at school, then who's to say that Blaine could do anything when other teachers couldn't before him. But looking at Kurt's shaking form, Blaine would do anything for him. He had to know.

"Some of the jocks." Kurt whispered so quietly it was a struggle for Blaine to hear him. "The...The ones from class."

Blaine's stomach tied up with guilt. If he hadn't been so hard on them in class maybe Kurt wouldn't be so hurt. If he had kept his mouth shut then none of this would have happened. As if reading his mind, Kurt moved his hand so it was on top of the hand on his knee and squeezed it. "It's not the first time, just because you said something to them doesn't mean they wouldn't have done it if you hadn't." Kurt said hoping that made sense. Blaine's face softened but Kurt could tell he was still beating himself up for it. "The first time I got beaten up at school was before my Mom...I've always liked clothes, and standing out. I asked for a pair of bright boots when I was seven." Kurt smiled sadly at the memory, his eyes shining with tears that he refused to let fall. "I nagged and I nagged, and then I got a good mark on my homework. I ran over to her grinning and she told me I could get them. We drove to the mall and she got me these bright white boots, and I was so excited I wore them to school the next day. The boys laughed at me, pushed me over, and poured black paint on them."

"Oh Kurt." Blaine pulled him into his arms, rubbing his hands down his back. He didn't care if this was inappropriate. Kurt was trembling against him, and all Blaine wanted was to make him feel better. To feel something other than pain.

"I went home crying. My Mom threw the boots away. She phoned the school, but they didn't do anything, 'kids will be kids' and all that crap," Kurt said bitterly. "My mom took me to the mall, got me a new pair of boots and a new outfit to match, and told me they were my special weekend clothes."

"She sounds like an amazing woman." Blaine whispered soothingly in his ear, he could feel Kurt melt back against him.

"She was. It all started when she... when she died." Kurt looked up at him. He wanted Blaine to take the pain away, he wanted Blaine to bring his mom back, he wanted Blaine to keep his arms around him forever. "My dad became distant. He was never ashamed of me. Mom used to call me special, dad agreed but he wasn't as enthusiastic as mom. He would always try and get me to throw a ball around, or watch a game. But when she died, he didn't bother anymore. I hated doing it, but I was so lonely I would have watched every game in the whole season if it meant I didn't have to sit on my own."

Blaine bit his lip hard, he couldn't cry as Kurt spoke. He needed to be strong, needed to be there for him. Blaine didn't know what to say, he just kept rubbing his back hoping that would make him feel a little better but knowing deep down that it wouldn't change anything. "It got worse as I got older. Dad had to make me food when I was little, we would sit and eat, he would mostly push the food around and I would do the same. Then when I was older and I could do it myself, we stopped sitting with each other at the table, we just... fell apart. I told him once about the bullying, he tried to do something but nothing really happened, then we didn't talk about it, or anything else for the matter."

"That sounds..." Blaine couldn't find the right word, horrible? Sad?

"That's when the voice started." Kurt looked down.

"The...Who you speak to?" Blaine asked quietly, glad that Kurt hadn't waited for him to finish his sentence.

"Yes. I try...I try not to. It makes people think I'm weird, but it gets louder when I don't." Kurt sighed, his cheeks blushing with shame. Blaine would think he was weird now.

"Is...Is it saying anything now?" Blaine asked curiously. He had looked online for things like this, assuming it was what Kurt was going through, but it hadn't been much help.

"No." Kurt said with relief. "Despite crying...and talking about this...I feel...I feel calm." Kurt explained. "It comes when I'm upset, or angry."

"Okay," Blaine nodded, trying hard to understand.

"What sorts of things does it say, Kurt?" Blaine asked. He needed to know everything if he was going to help him.

"Sometimes it's nice. It says that it's my friend, and I'm only ever going to have it as a friend, no one wants to know me." Kurt sniffled. "It doesn't want me to like you."

"What do you mean?" Blaine frowned.

"It doesn't want anyone to help me, because I'm weak."

"Kurt." Blaine said strongly, pulling away from Kurt a little and tilting his chin up to make him look him in the eye. "You're not weak. You are the strongest person I know."

"I am?" Kurt whispered, not believing him.

"Yes." Blaine nodded. "Thank you for sharing this with me."

"Am I crazy?" Kurt asked, the question breaking Blaine's heart.

"No, Kurt. You're not crazy. You just need help." Blaine moved his finger from Kurt's chin to his cheek, stroking softly.

"Who will help me? No one likes me." Kurt mumbled.

"I'm going to help you." Blaine said and pulled him back in his arms, holding him tightly for the rest of the day.