AN: Another drabble off 232
He had forgotten his cell phone in his locker after gym class. Hoping to avoid running into Karofsky, he had waited until football practice had started to go retrieve it. He hadn't got that lucky.
"I think you've got the wrong locker room, lady."
He recognized Azimio's voice and Karofsky's laugh. Hoping that ignoring them would convince them to leave him alone he had continued to enter the locker combination.
"Hey, we're talking to you," Karofsky said, shoving him away from his locker.
"Shouldn't you be out with the tackle dummies practicing your pick-up lines or something" he said, trying to sound more confident then he felt.
"We've got our own tackle dummy right here," Karofsky said, reaching out and grabbing his wrist.
"Leave me alone," he said, trying to pull his hand out of Karofsky's grasp.
"I thought you enjoyed the boys company," Karofsky leered.
"Not yours," he replied, hearing his voice crack.
"Then how about you hang around until someone who's company you will enjoy comes alone," Karofsky said, grabbing his other arm.
Despite his struggles he felt helpless as Karofsky and Azimio had stripped him to his underwear. Karofsky had then held him as Azimio hand retrieved a couple of jump ropes and bound his hands in front of him.
"Now what do we do with him?" Azimio asked.
"The showers," Karofsky replied, beginning to drag the struggling teen in that direction.
"Kurt, wake up."
Lashing out with his feet, he still struggled, calling out for help as Karofsky looped the second jump rope through the rope binding his wrists and started to pull his hands above his head. Despite everything though, Karofsky still managed to secure the rope to the shower head, leaving him standing on his tip toes.
"Kurt, you're okay, dude."
"Please don't," he whispered as Azimio reached for the cold water faucet.
The cold water made him gasp, seeming to drive all the air out of his lungs, Karofsky and Azimio's laughter drifting away.
"Breathe, Kurt. Come on!"
Someone was shaking me. Gasping for breath I came out of the nightmare I was reliving. Instinctively, I tried to huddle in on myself to protect myself from the blows I was sure would follow.
"Kurt, you're safe. Open your eyes, son," my dad said, his familiar rough hand touching my cheek.
What was my Dad doing at the school? Though if Dad was nearby, I'd be alright. Opening my eyes I found myself looking into the concerned face of Finn. Looking past him I saw the familiar surroundings of my own livingroom. The memories had seemed so real though.
"It seemed so real," I whispered, not sure whether I was talking to Finn or my Dad.
"It wasn't," Finn told me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into a hug.
Recalling the feeling of the cold water hitting me, I didn't resist him, instead relaxing against the warmth of Finn's chest. I felt my Dad's hand come to rest on my back.
"Don't let go," I pleaded in a whisper, not caring that the close embrace was causing bruises to protest. They're a minor annoyance compared to the memories I had just relived.
"I got you, Kurt. I'm right here," Finn replied, repeating the same words he had spoke at the hospital.