There's all kinds of courage

A/N; Hi it's been ages since I wrote anything so please excuse if it's rubbish, also I was so eager to get this up I may have missed lots of mistakes. I'm going to make it T for now because there's going to be some dark stuff later. if anyone thinks it should be M let me know.

oh yeah I don't own any of it not even a ticket to see Darren Criss perform in London, but I'll probably get over it some day.

Chapter One

The alleyway was dark and smelled like rotten garbage but the boy didn't notice, all he could smell was blood.

He felt like he was coated in it, it seemed to have soaked into his very pores, but the worse thing was that he knew most of it wasn't his. No, if only. The blood that coated him, staining his skin and clothes belonged to the other boy that he clutched tightly in his arms and he would give anything to put it back, for the face he looked down on to be unmarked and clean.

A cool breeze blew against him making him shiver and bringing him out of his trance slightly. The t-shirt he was wearing was torn and wet and offered little protection from the cool air. Even though it was the start of summer it was late enough in the evening that the warmth had gone from the day. He didn't want to take his eyes off the boy in his arms, didn't want to have to begin to deal with this but he knew he needed to get help, and soon.

He glanced around and saw his jacket laying where it had been thrown earlier, as he reached for it his mind replayed the moment it had been torn from his body and he immediatly closed the thought off. He didn't need to think about that right now, no not now. For now he needed to get help. He reluctantly loosened one arm from around the other boys still form and reached for the jacket pulling it towards him. He debated putting it on for a moment and then decided to lay it over the other boy instead. He reached into one of the pockets and found the reassuring shape of his cell phone. Clutching it tightly in his hand he took a deep breath and dialled 911.

" 911 do you need fire, medical or police?" the calm voice of a woman came over the phone and the shock of hearing a voice in the silence almost caused him to drop the phone.

"Um..." his mind went blank all of a sudden and he found himself unable to answer.

"Hello do you need help?" the voice came again.

"Yes" his voice sounded hoarse and he had to say it again so that he could be heard. "We... I.. need an ambulance."

"Okay sir, what is the problem?" the voice was female, calm and official.

"He won't wake up and there's so much blood" he stumbled over the words and could feel his heart starting to beat faster as panic set in.

"What is your location?"

The question stumped him for a minute whilst he tried to calm his racing thoughts and give her the answer she needed so she could help him. God to think a little while ago they had been argueing about whether Thor had been worth the cost of the tickets or not. Theatre tickets that's it.

"We're in the alley next to the Movie Theatre on Stratton Street" he was suprised at how calm he sounded all of a sudden, the simple telling of hard facts focusing his mind for a moment.

"Okay I've dispatched paremedics they should be with you soon. Is your friend breathing?"

"Yeah...yes he's breathing but..." he trailed off.

"Well that's good" the voice replied. "My name's Sheila, can you tell me yours?"

He felt a moment of panic as if giving her his name changed anything, like if he didn't tell her then he could pretend this wasn't real and it was happening to someone else.

"Son, what's your name?" Sheila asked again, her voice calm and reassuring.

"Blaine" he almost whispered.

"Blaine and your friends name?"

He felt like yelling at her then, friend, why did she just assume that's all he was to him, why didn't she realise that the boy so still in his arms was his whole life. He realised that he was being irrational and that she wasn't assuming anything, that she didn't know them at all.

He took another deep shaky breath before he answered slighlty louder than before "Kurt".

"So it's Blaine and Kurt, good. Now I know Kurt's hurt and don't worry the paremedics are almost with you but I need to know if you're okay Blaine?" Sheila asked.

"I'm fine" he answered quickly, because he was, wasn't he? He wasn't the one unconcious, bleeding on the floor, he was fine and nobody but him needed to know what a lie that was.

He could hear sirens in the distance getting closer.

"I think they're here" he said into the phone and then hung up before she could say anything else.

He automatically put the phone back in his pocket and ran a shaky hand through his curly hair wincing when he hit a couple of sore spots. He looked back down at the delicate features of the boy in his arms and bit back a sob. If not for the blood he looked like he was sleeping and what he wouldn't give to see those beautiful pale eyes open up and for him to smile up at him. He shifted slighlty and it hurt more than he was expecting. He bit back a gasp as numorous place on his body screamed out in pain at the unwelcome movement. Blue lights flashed at the end of the alley bathing both their faces in cold light.

"It's going to be okay Kurt" he leaned down and whispered in his boyfriends ear "they're here now and they'll help you".

"Hello" he heard a voice call out and he allowed himself to relax slightly knowing that this was no longer only his burden to bear.

A/N; short I know but call it a teaser. I have a set idea where this is going and it might seem like Kurt is worse off at the minute but just know that Blaine is my favourite character ever and so therefore he'll be the one I enjoy hurting the most.