kurt.

The Lima Bean. Of course he wound up there. For some reason he didn’t want to go in. He just wanted to sit down. He reminds himself that inside would be better but he can’t change the path of his shuffle.  There was someone out there. What on earth made him look like he was willing to talk? A moment later he realized it was one of those Dalton boys. The one that wasn’t phased by Kurt and bought him a coffee. Blaine.
Blaine was talking- right. Kurt’s slow walk came to a stop. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He might have wheezed or whined.  What was the question again?  He shook his head before trying to wipe the line of blood from his temple – the first hit once he was cornered–don’t think about it – that kept getting into his eye when he stood like he did now; with most of his weight on his left foot because his right leg hurt worse and the rain diluted the blood to make it run more and faster.  Where did his breath go?  He swallowed dryly and stared at Blaine’s shoes, for once it was easier to look at those than at his face.  He remembered the man’s shoes, decent dress shoes but Kurt had a nicer pair back home and a feeling that the guy wanted to feel extra tough by dressing nice to beat some kid in the rain.  Right, he said that out loud at the time.  That’s why his forearms hurt, the man had a very strong grip and yanked him up from where he was coughing on all fours.

Kurt shook his head again.

“Kurt,” he repeated more insistently this time trying to get the slightly taller boy to tune into him completely.  Blaine cringed when the entirety of Kurt’s current state finally sank in.  He was an utter wreck.  Who could do this to someone else?  Unfortunately, Blaine knew the answer all too well. Ohio seemed to be packed full of cretins that had nothing better to do with their time than break people apart who didn’t fit the bill of the ‘perfect person’ they considered themselves to be. Mostly verbally, mentally but when it got physical?  It was brutal, without remorse, and utterly stomach churning to see the aftermath of.
Hazel eyes flicked up to watch as Kurt tried to wipe some of the blood of his skin and Blaine ached to reach out and help but he wasn’t sure if he should dare attempt to touch him.  Not until he was certain that Kurt would even allow it without swinging at him on autopilot.  Sure, Blaine knew he could take a punch and probably get out of the way.  But riling Kurt up wouldn’t work out okay for either one of them.
“You do need help.  You need it really bad,” Blaine’s voice was pleading for Kurt to listen to him. “Let me, please? Or I am going to call an ambulance.”  A soft touch of his fingertips to the back of Kurt’s hand boldly tried to get Kurt to follow two backwards steps towards the passenger side of his car before it drop down chest high and hovering in the air with his palm facing up, fingers loosely curled towards the sky.  –Take my hand.  Please take my hand and let me help you.–  “We can get out of the rain first.  My car’s right here,”  he thumbed over his shoulder and gently eased his still extended hand closer to Kurt’s waiting to see if he would trust him enough to take it.