A/N First story here :| AU
Sorry if I totally mess anything up or contradict myself.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee

"Dad. It's me – um, it's Kurt. Again… So…" Kurt trailed off when a phone rang in the distance.

"Hey! Andrews!" A gruff-sounding man shouted after the phone was picked up. Kurt glanced nervously around the small room quickly and bit the inside of his cheek, hearing footsteps approaching. As a man carrying a small collection of folders walked by, he pressed himself up closer against the wall where the dirty phone was attached to let him pass by.

"Um… Anyway, I guess later today is when they're taking me to move into that new school." Even though he knew his father couldn't seem him over the phone, Kurt forced a small sad smile. "Maybe you could stop by and threaten my new roommate." He giggled softly. Remembering he wasn't going to get a response, he continued, "Remember when you said you would scare the first boy I moved in with, with your shotgun?" He paused for a moment, the already-forced smile falling off his delicate features. He was sure his father didn't picture the first boy he moved in with to be a roommate at the court-assigned reform school used to house teen delinquents when he had promised Kurt that over a year ago. He cleared his throat briefly and forced another smile.

"Um, anyway. You don't have to come. They said you could come help me move my stuff in, though. Or whatever…" A tap on the shoulder startled him and he jumped and turned his head around so quickly he was sure he'd gotten whiplash. The guard raised an eyebrow at his response, then tapped her wrist, indicating his time was up. He turned sharply back towards the phone and began talking quickly, "B-b-but if you're busy or something, maybe you could send Finn up with my stuff at some point. If he has the time. So call me back. Or – I mean – call here, or something, if you need to get a hold of me. I think I'm getting my cellphone back today though. I'm not sure actually-"

The guard cleared her throat loudly behind him. Kurt took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down from his rambling.

"So yeah, try to let me know if someone's coming up to meet me. Bye Dad." He inhaled shakily and took a moment to compose himself before turning to face the guard, his best mask already in place. He raised his chin haughtily and looked at the phone in his hands pointedly and then raised his eyes back to the guard.

The middle-aged woman sighed tiredly and took the phone from his handcuffed hands and hung it up, the young boy unable to reach the awkward angle of the receiver himself with his hands shackled.

Without speaking a word, the guard stalked off, pulling Kurt by the elbow, back down into the dimly lit halls and to his holding cell. She unlocked his handcuffs without making eye contact and closed the cell door swiftly, causing a resounding clank! to echo throughout the area. Kurt took a step back and watched as the woman turned on her heel and walked away. He blinked a few times.

Is somebody going to tell me what exactly's going on…? Do I just wait here or…? Kurt leaned forward to look down each end of the corridor, searching for someone to come tell him what time he was supposedly being taken to this reform school and by whom. And did he get his possessions back?

Sighing, he rolled his eyes and turned around. He eyed the small, filthy room and the bed pushed up against one of the walls. Letting out another sigh, he walked slowly towards it and stared at it for a long moment, blinking, and realizing just how unsanitary it was. "My mother would be so angry if she knew I was forced to sleep on this for the past three months." He thought out loud.

For a second, he felt embarrassed that the neighboring cell dwellers might have overheard him talking to himself, but then he realized, I'm in a juvenile holding cell. Why would I care whether or not these people think I'm crazy?

He sat gingerly on the bed and wiped one hand down his face and felt the greasy buildup. Shuttering, he pulled his hand away and inspected the shiny residue on his fingers and palm. He'd refrained looking in the dull plastic mirror as much as possible since he'd arrived here, knowing what a mess his skin and hair must be. At least at that school, I'll have a real mirror and be able to take care of myself again… Right?

He realized after a second that he had no idea what this Dalton Reform School for Boys was actually like. Was it like this place only he was able to go to classes? No, surely not. There was no way they handcuffed the students outside of their cells… rooms – he corrected himself – outside of their rooms. After all, the reason they were letting him go there was because they determined he wasn't a threat to others, right? The only reason they still handcuffed him here and kept him in a cell here was because it was regulation, right...? Right? In no way had he been cleared, but the judge understood the situation and seemed to pity him… But what was this reform school going to be like exactly?

He would soon find out.

Three and a half hours later found Kurt sitting numbly in the passenger seat of a government car, staring blankly out the window at the trails of water running down it from the rain. The young boy ran his finger along the glass where, on the other side, a large drop of water was making its way down, and lazily followed the path the droplet made. He distantly acknowledged the driver was talking, but something he said caught his attention. "What?"

"Hmm?" The man glanced quickly to Kurt before turning his eyes back to the road.

"What did you just say?"

"Oh. I said there's also a soccer team that has access to the field outside the-"

"No, no, before that. There's a singing group?" Kurt asked, raising his eyebrow in disbelief. Surely he had heard wrong.

The man – Nathan or Nathaniel, or… or Neil or something – blinked a few times, as if trying to read back in his head what he had just told the boy, before realization dawned on his face. "Oh, yes. Right. The – um – Warblets or so I believe they're called. They're a show choir that is sometimes able to participate in competitions. Like I said before, they qualify as one of the options for your required extracurricular." He turned his attention back to driving; trying to navigate in the nasty weather and silence filled the car. "You – uh… Do you sing?"

Kurt thought for a second before responding. Did he sing? He was in his glee club at McKinley, sure. And he sang with his friends all the time.

Sang. As in, the past tense.

"I used to."

They pulled into the entrance and had to be let into the gate. The school was enormous. Oh, and completely breathtaking. If it weren't for the security guards at the building's main front gate and the barbed wire fencing that encompassed the entire school grounds, one could pretend they were attending a muggle-version of Hogwarts and not a behavioral school in Ohio.

Nick, or Norton, or whatever, cut the engine and Kurt looked forward and saw some faculty-looking people waiting inside the glass doors, seeming to be anticipating his arrival. Regardless of the steady rain coming down, the grounds were scattered with boys in matching clothes, all sneaking glances at the unfamiliar car.

"B, do you need my bro to pick up more of those things for you this weekend?" David eyed the dark-haired boy's shaking hands, fumbling as he tried to get a match to catch spark as he dragged it clumsily against the striking surface, with a questioning gaze and a raised eyebrow.

Blaine's match finally caught fire and he brought it up to the cigarette he held between his lips, eyes fluttering shut as he sucked in short, desperate breaths, shielding the stick with his hand from the wind until it lit properly. He took in a long drag and the tension he held in his shoulders easing up slightly.

"Yes. Yes, oh god, yes." He breathed, letting the smoke leave his lips before he stuck the pack of matches into his shoe and dug his wallet out, looking contemplative before pulling out a few bills and passing them to David, who raised his eyebrows in surprise, eyeing the money inquisitively.

"Um, Blaine,"

"I know, I know. Can he get me like, I don't know, 15 maybe?"

"You know he's coming back again next weekend-"

"Yes, I know."

"…You're up to two packs a day?" David whistled lowly and pocketed the cash. "You got it bad, B."

They were joined by a slightly out of breath and soggy Wes, whose face flickered with jealousy before turning into a look of disgust, as he slid down the wall of the abandoned Arts Building, shielded under the ledge of the roof from the rain.

"How was le Français, monsieur Wesley?" David smiled sheepishly, using a terrible fake accent and shoulder-bumping Blaine with a look of amusement.

Wes opened his mouth to make a snarky remark as David lit his own cigarette and Blaine lit a second, crushing the first butt under hit foot.

"Okay, can you seriously not do that around me? It's making me crave like a fucking bitch and I'm too poor to smoke." The two boys snickered and continued taking drags. In response, Wes stood and took the sticks out of each boy's hands, ignoring their protests and resumed throwing them on the ground. "Besides, the lunch bell rang and if you two had actually been at the nurse's, you would have heard it. So let's go, it's starting to rain harder anyway."

Kurt sighed. He stepped out into the weather, not caring when his hair soon flopped wetly down onto his forehead, or when his uncharacteristically messy clothes clung to his body from the rain, and made his way to the main office door ahead where the people seemed to be waiting. He was followed shortly by… Nelson? who was carrying Kurt's practically empty duffle bag and had shielded himself underneath an umbrella. He opened the door for Kurt and himself and they both stepped inside. Kurt stared blankly as they were approached by a tall, skinny bald man who looked unhappy and a woman with a big, fake smile and too much makeup. Her red hair was in a tight bun and her gray pantsuit was much too tight for her round figure.

"Hello! My name is Victoria Burton and I am the Head Junior Counselor and here is…"

Kurt lost interest in what she was saying and drowned out her words. He was more focused on the rather large groups of uniform-clad boys that were beginning to gather around the hallways and stare at him with a surprising amount of interest. He felt slightly uneasy. He sucked in a deep breath and tilted his chin up, facing back to the adults in front of him, who still seemed to be talking about things that didn't require his participation. He absentmindedly pulled his hand through his hair that was sopping wet from the rain.

"Okay, seriously, what's going on?" Wes questioned, seeing yet another group of students file past them quickly with an excited energy.

Blaine took an eager look around the corner they turned, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever was happening, but then cleared his throat and tilted his chin up as they walked past a group of intense-looking students. A few glares were shared between the enemy groups and Blaine put on his best smug smile and shrugged.

"I heard someone say something about a new kid or something," David offered, hoping to be out of earshot of the other students. Blaine blinked a few times curiously, but then raised his eyebrow, putting his badass façade back in place.

"Fuck if I care." Blaine responded, trying his hardest to sound casual.

"Bet you do care, faggot." The three boys froze in place, mentally debating whether to get away as fast as possible, or to kick some ass, and trying to determine quickly if they could take these guys. "Saw the new kid. Looks like more of a queer than you, Anderson. Maybe you two could, ya know, fly off to fucking fairyland together. " Snickers followed and Wes and David glanced at their curly-haired friend, seeing his annoyed, irate expression turn into a small smile.

Blaine turned quickly, facing the one speaking to him. Lawrence Bright. Renny.

"HAH! Yeah… fairyland, no – yeah, that's fucking hilarious," he nodded slowly, taking a few steps until he was face to face with the tall, gangly, red-haired, teen, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. Blaine nodded again, forced smiling dropping off his face as hazel met green in a deadly gaze. "Yeah, fucking hilarious!"

He lunged at the taller boy, taking his neck between his hands and knocking him down onto the floor, and landing on top of him. Blaine got one good punch at Renny's jaw before being yanked aggressively off of him by David. He shot an incredulous look at his friend until seeing that Renny's friends, too, had pulled him up and were standing still with looks of false innocence as a teacher walked by, giving them no notice.

A menacing look was shared between the two groups and they walked off in different directions.

Wes nudged both his friends as they turned a corner, gesturing vaguely in front of him. They all looked up to meet a pair of dizzying blue eyes that looked like they hadn't had the chance to rest properly in days. The boy they belonged to was paler than a sheet and had wet, chestnut brown hair falling over his forehead messily.

Blaine stared at him stupidly, feeling a small smile play onto his face. He's beautiful. He was nothing like the other guys he'd been with, no; he was much more soft-looking, more fragile. When Blaine was with other boys, he'd convince himself they were attractive enough, that he liked them. But this boy, the boy that now caught him practically drooling as their eyes met, sparked something Blaine had never felt before. "Cute," he breathed, not taking his eyes off the slender, pale boy.

"Bet you'd be okay with that little twink breaking your dry spell." David whispered lewdly, causing Blaine's smile to twitch upwards slightly. He hummed in agreement, trying to catch a better view.

Behind Victoria, Kurt noticed a particular group of boys head in and each one of them stopped as they noticed his presence. He stared at them dumbly as they smirked and gave each other mischievous looks. Kurt took particular interest in the boy center of the group. He had dark curly hair and light tanned skin. Kurt caught his gaze and held it for a moment, taking in the color of his eyes. Even from a distance, he could appreciate their warm hazel-green quality.

The boy was positively breathtaking.

Deep down, in some relatively stable part of his brain, Kurt knew this boy was most likely straight, and that he was in a reform school, meaning he was not the kind of kid he should take interest in. If the way his formal uniform tie was hanging loosely around his neck and his dress slacks were hanging low on his hips weren't enough proof that he was trademark bad boy, the self-righteous smile and shiny piece of metal adorning his eyebrow would have tipped him off.

Sure, one part of him was recognizing the fact that he couldn't let himself fall for this kid, but most of him was relishing in the fact that it felt as though he was seeing color for the first time after spending his entire life in black and white.

I feel like I'm flying.

Kurt blushed faintly, noticing the smile on the boy's face growing slightly when the dark-skinned boy next to him said something that he, himself didn't hear. An Asian boy nudged the two students with his elbow and motioned for them all to continue walking down a particular path they had been on before noticing the new arrival and out of Kurt's sight.

"Seriously though B, when's the last time you got any?" David smiled knowingly and when Blaine didn't respond, he shared a look with Wes over the shorter boy's head. Blaine saw this exchanged and looked forward, blinking rapidly.

"W-well, I mean, sometimes I hook up with Jeremiah-"

"Nope. No, he doesn't count." David said as they stepped through the doors of the cafeteria, stepping forward to type his meal number into the small machine near the door.

"What? He counts!"

"Nope. You bang him for drugs."

Blaine rolled his eyes and sighed as he took his tray and scanned the room before his eyes settled on a table near the center of the room that contained Jeff, Nick and Trent already eating. He began making his way there and mumbled something under his breath that sounded like, 'Then do any of them really count?'

"Kurt?" The young boy looked up and saw that the Nate guy was smiling kindly but unsurely at him.

"W-what?"

"… I just said I hope you settle in. I'm heading out." He nodded and when Kurt gave no response, he patted Kurt on the shoulder. The young boy flinched back and sharply inhaled a breath of air. The man squinted his eyes at him questioningly, but soon opened his umbrella and walked through the door they came in. Kurt blinked and stared at the place he left and watched the car slowly pull out of its parking place and drive into the stormy weather.

"So… Kurt, because it's your first day here, you don't have to go to any classes. And it's Friday so you'll have the weekend to settle in. We do have group every day, including weekends, but you can start academic classes on Monday. How does that sound?"

Kurt looked around the room. There were some office administration workers behind the front desk and a few were helping students. He noticed the man that had accompanied Victoria was walking away with his duffle bag, most likely to take it to his dorm. Realizing he was being talked to, he nodded slowly, not drawing his eyes back to the woman.

"Um, alright then! Well, it's lunch right now and all meals are mandatory attendance so make sure you check in with your meal number and stay there until you're released. Here's your schedule, meal number, and room assignment. Oh, and group today is directly after lunch. This is your group number."

He was handed a small assortment of papers, and without even glancing at them, he folded them and stuck them in his pocket. And once again, Kurt did what he found himself doing a lot of during the past three months: He stared dumbly and nodded slowly.

"Ha! Yeah right. She is way hotter than Jenna. I'd way rather fuck her than Jenna. What do you think?" Trent turned to Wes and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"I don't know, man. She's hot and everything, but Jenna's Asian. And the Asian in me just seeks out other Asians. I don't know though. Blaine?" The curly-haired boy's fork stopped halfway to his mouth and he placed it back down to his tray and cocked his pierced eyebrow.

"Really? Really, Wesley?" He shook his head in bemusement and picked his forked back up and resumed eating his spaghetti with a slight smirk.

"Oooh. Right, right. Well… I don't know… I still kinda think-"

"Shhhh! SHHHH!" Trent waved his hand in front of Wes's face, his eyes trained on something across the room.

The cafeteria soon hushed down and the six boys at the table all turned to face whatever the big deal was. Everyone seemed to be staring at a slight, pale boy with chestnut hair. He seemed unaware of the commotion he was causing until his eyes shifted from his food tray up to the population of the cafeteria. The small gasp that escaped his lips as his eyes met the staring gazes of the curious lunch-goers was audible and echoed slightly in the quiet room.

His look of confusion-mixed-with-shock-and-fear was soon replaced with a dangerous glare as he raised an eyebrow and lifted his chin, stalking off to an empty table near the door.

Murmurs soon erupted throughout the room and conversation began to pick up again.

"Uh… New kid?" Jeff guessed with an amused smile after the table had remained silent.

"Uh, more like frickin' baby new kid. Did you see him? He looks 12." Nick said, stabbing his food with his fork, but not actually putting any in his mouth.

Blaine looked embarrassed, remembering his admitting he thought the boy was attractive. Wes and David snickered.

"Oh, come now, Nicholas. Some people like them that way." David spoke, looking at Blaine the whole time he said it.

The curly-haired boy fought off his blush and shrugged. "Besides, aren't the little innocent ones always the freakin' crazy dangerous ones?"

"I don't know though. He seriously looked way too young and good to end up here." Nick took a sip of water, and then put it down quickly as his eyes widened. "Oh! Maybe he's like a prostitute, right? Like young guy prostitutes usually try to look like little kids, right?" He asked excitedly, leaning forward and looking from person to person, trying to get someone to agree with his logic.

Instead, no one responded, still deep in thought, though pondering what he had suggested. Trent made a hum of thought and swallowed the bite of food he had.

"Do you think that's the guy that's supposed to be rooming with Thad?"

"What about Thad?" The boy in question approached the table, but instead of sitting down, cocked his head to the side in question.

"Oh. Just that the new kid over there might be your new roommate. I mean he was supposed to come this week, right? And it's Friday so it has to be him. I doubt anyone else is coming." Trent gestured to the pale boy at the other end of the room with his fork before shrugging and turning his attention back to his spaghetti.

Blaine watched Thad's curious gaze as he inspected the new boy from afar. He had a bad feeling about this…

"Well let's find out!" Thad spoke suddenly, alarming the inhabitants of the table and causing them to jump.

"How…?" Jeff drew out the word slowly, pretty sure he already knew the answer but afraid at the same time.

Wes and David shared a look and broke out into identical, evil smirks. Blaine shifted his suspicious glance from Thad to them, eyes widening when he saw their smiles. "You guys mean…?" He trailed off, making a small gesture with his hand.

"No."

Wes and David let out small whimpers. "What? But Thaaad. We've been so good!" Wes stuck out his bottom lip and pouted, trying his best at puppy-dog eyes.

"I said no, you fucker. Come on, though. We should… talk to him, first. We'll talk about doing that later. Maybe tomorrow night." Thad motioned for them all to follow him. With a few quick glances among each other, they stood and did just that.

A loud clatter trays landing on his table brought Kurt out of his hazy daydream. A dream where he never followed that damned jock into that locker room. He glanced up from his food and stiffened immediately. Seven sets of eyes were staring into his wide, frightened glasz ones. He recognized three of them from when he first entered the school, but the others were unfamiliar. They were all looking at him expectantly with slight smirks that made him nervous.

He raised an eyebrow and looked back down to his salad, moving around the dry lettuce on his plate.

"What's your name?" Came a harsh demanding voice.

Kurt froze. He looked up slowly again to the group of boys in uniform, noticing their smiles had vanished from their faces and were replaced with looks of expectance or confusion. He also realized he didn't know which one of them had asked the question. His eyes briefly fell over the curly-haired boy from before, but he blushed and tore his eyes away after seeing the intimidating look he was getting from said boy. He could feel his chest tightening up slowly and his body filling with adrenalin like right before he would get attacked or right before a test he wasn't prepared for.

The pale boy cleared his throat quietly and eyed the exit of the building. They said I have to say until I'm released, didn't they? He glanced back to the group. God Damnit. Why did it seem like he couldn't spoke if he tried? Just tell them your name. All they want is your God Damned name.

"Are you a hooker?"

Kurt choked on nothing and his eyes shot up to the group that sat before him, mouth hanging open in shock.

The boys all seemed to be eyeing a particular teen with blonde fringe hanging in front of his face with different varying looks of disbelief and disappointment.

Kurt cleared his throat again and his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

"…I-I – No!" The boys turned their attention towards him and he lowered his voice a little bit and narrowed his eyes in horror. "I-i-is that really the vibe I'm giving off? What I come off as? A hooker?" He ran his hand through his hair self-consciously and said something under his breath that sounded like 'I look eight.'

"I – well, at least he's talking?" Jeff offered with a grimace and shrugged.

"Shut the fuck up, Jeff. Listen, kid. What's your damn name?" David put his hands down on the table and eyed the boy.

"Kurt Hummel." He whispered tentatively. He noticed the curly-haired boy's lips twitch up in a small arrogant smile.

"Alright. I'm David. This is Wes. Blaine. Nick. Trent. Thad, and you already met the idiot fucking blonde, Jeff." He stuck his thumb in the direction of the light-haired boy who glared at him. "Thad here is your roommate... probably."

"Probably?"

"Yeah. I mean I was supposed to get a new roommate this week and it looks like you're the only new kid here. So congrats, roomie, you gots the best fucking roommate in the school!"

Kurt nodded and poked at his untouched salad. "Yeah. Okay." Blaine smirked and raised his pierced eyebrow.

"…'Okay?'"

Kurt blinked a few times and glanced up with a blank stare. "Um, yeah. Okay."

Blaine looked back at his friends and they all burst out in laughter. Kurt, confused, looked up at the boys. "What?"

Trent cleared his throat of laughter looked at the pale boy. "Nothing, nothing. You might survive here, kid." He looked over Kurt for a few seconds, and pursed his lips slightly. "So what are you in for?"

Without hesitating, "What are you in for?" he asked as calmly as he could.

The group shared a few looks and turned back to look at the young boy.

"Grand theft auto." Nick replied and Jeff nodded.

"Same."

"'Armed' robbery." Wes said, using air quotes and rolling his eyes. "Because I had a frickin' pocket knife in my pocket."

"Arson." Thad's lips twitched into a dangerous smile. Kurt raised an eyebrow in question but his thoughts of question were cut off.

"Breaking and entering… and possession of stolen property." Trent spoke in a fake British accent and sounded like he had said the line a hundred times. He snorted. "I went into my neighbor's house when they were gone and when they caught me; they raided my stuff and found I had a laptop my friend gave me that had been stolen. Didn't even steal it myself!" He let a bitter laugh escape his lips.

"Destruction of property." David shrugged, looking bored. "I guess that combined with my fake I.D. was enough to get me in here."

When the mysterious curly-haired boy kept his mouth shut, Kurt lowered his head, trying to meet the other boy's eyes. "What about you?" Blaine's head shot up. First, he had a confused look on his face, then it shifted into an amused and slightly superior look.

He pulled his left arm from under the table and pushed the sleeve up with his right. Once the shirt was past his elbow, he displayed it on the table in front of him, letting the bright cafeteria lights shine down on it. Blaine kept his eyes on the pale boy's face, watching for a reaction.

Kurt looked at the arm scattered with various black and red and brown track marks, some older than others. The newest ones seemed to be still healing, not yet scarred. He wondered how long this Blaine had been at the reform school.

"For using or did you get intent to distribute?" Kurt asked sheepishly, not taking his eyes off the boy's ruined forearm.

Blaine and Wes shared a quick look, seemingly impressed with his lack of reaction. Pushing his sleeve back down, he looked back to the young boy. "'Possession'," he used air quotes, "because they found it in my system. And intent to distribute because I had more on me and it was separated into different bags. Not that I was actually going to sell it, but that's what they say is proof." He scoffed. Once again, the teen looked to Kurt for his reaction, but found his face unreadable.

"Heroin?"

"Yep." He looked at the odd almost longing expression on the pale boy's face and tilted his head to the side curiously with a smile. "You use?" He guessed.

Kurt's mouth fell open slightly in surprise to the accusation. "No…" He paused, thoughts obviously occupying his mind as his brow furrowed. "You know, you guys seem like you don't have that much reason to be here. No offense or anything." He added the last part quickly, wondering if that kind of thing was considered an insult. "I got the idea into my head that everyone here was going to be really dangerous. Or were here for really bad stuff." Like I am, he added silently.

Trent shared a look with Thad and looked at Kurt. "I… Us? No, maybe we're not too dangerous. But you have to understand, there are guys here that are here because of some crazy shit. Fucked up stuff like violence and rape and shit. You gotta watch out even if you think you're safe."

Kurt sucked in a quick breath. Fucked up shit like violence and rape? What would they think when-?

"So what are you here for? You totally never answered our question." Jeff asked with a small smile playing at his lips.

Kurt opened his mouth to talk but no words came out. He sat, opening and closing his mouth for a few moments, trying to form some sort of acceptable response, when a loud bell rang throughout the room. Immediately, all the boys stood, seeming to lose interest in the answer altogether. He eyed their trays left on the table as the boys began to gather their bags and leave. "Wait – are you – do we leave our trays here?" He asked, feeling stupid, because obviously, yes, everyone was leaving their trays there.

Blaine stopped in his rush to leave with his friends and cocked his eyebrow and in that way that made Kurt scared and oddly turned on at the same time. He turned to face Kurt entirely and that damn smirk found its way to his lips yet again. "Oh, yeah…" He waved his hand dismissively and hoisted his messenger-style bag onto his shoulder. "So what group are you?"

"14."

"Ah." His eyes darted around the quickly emptying room before turning back to Kurt with a different kind of smile. "Come on, then," he pulled Kurt by the elbow and motioned with his other hand towards the nearest exit.

"You're in that one, too?"

"No." He continued pulling Kurt along as they made their way to the door. Kurt narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but was cut off before he could voice his question. "Trent! TRENT!"

The boy in questioned turned to face them, a smile rising to his lips as he took in the two of them together. "Hmm?"

"He – Kurt – uh, Kurt's in 14," he put special emphasis on the last word. "So make that's not the case anymore." Blaine shoved Kurt in Trent's direction where he was grabbed roughly by the arm by the meaty, blonde-spikey-haired boy.

Trent smiled mischievously and nodded. Blaine took one last look at Kurt and flashed a wicked smile before patting Trent on the shoulder and winking. He stalked off, into the blur of navy and gray.

Kurt considered questioning, What is he talking about? What's wrong with group 14? Where are we going? What are you going to do? Instead, he found himself sighing and being dragged roughly by the arm in the opposite direction of the herd of students and into a small, empty corridor.

They came to a halt and he figured it was safe to ask something, so he opened his mouth and turned to Trent, but was soon cut off when a blinding flash of white pain shot through his face and he found himself hitting the wall behind him, resulting in a loud thwack! as his head hit the wall.

All he saw was black, but he didn't faint.

Next he was being dragged to his feet and led again, but this time somehow more gently. He vaguely recognized someone was talking, but didn't really hear who it was or what they were saying.

He blinked back the stinging tears and the room before him started to come into focus. Just as he found himself aware of his surroundings, he was directed into a large classroom, filled with about 15 or so students sitting in a circle of chairs, like the group therapy sessions he'd seen on T.V. countless times.

"Ms. Webber," Trent was still beside him, holding onto his upper arm tentatively, speaking to the lady who sat on one chair in the circle. The lady looked up and approached them cautiously. "I found this kid all fu – messed up in the hallway over by the English wing on my way here. He's not in uniform, though. I don't know if he even goes here."

He felt himself being pushed slightly towards the teacher and Trent released him, going to take a seat in the circle.

Kurt was staring blankly at the woman in front of him with her short black hair cut in a bob, and her thin, pointed face staring at him curiously. She pursed her lips slightly and removed the thin wire-frame glasses from her face.

"Well? Do you go here?" Her voice was sharp and impatient.

Kurt blinked a few times and looked at the faces of the boys in the room. Shocked, he met the gazes of none other than Trent, David, Wes, Blaine, Jeff, Nick and Thad. What the hell is going on? They all looked at him with expressionless faces, mirroring the looks of the seven or eight students in the room he didn't recognize.

"Young man?"

He snapped out of his confused thoughts and brought his attention back to the woman in front of him.

"I-I…Y-yes." He insisted desperately, wincing at the needy tone of his voice, his thoughts still too confused to elaborate.

The woman didn't look convinced. "Do any of you know this boy?" She questioned tiredly, making a sweeping gesture across the room to the rest of the students there.

A collective murmur of 'no's and 'mm-mm's sounded throughout the room, even coming from the boys Kurt knew. His eyes widened, still thoroughly puzzled.

"But…" Kurt began frantically, his arms coming up instinctively to circle around himself.

"Wait, yeah. He's that new kid that was here before lunch," one of the ones Kurt didn't know mumbled, not taking his eyes off the teacher as he chewed on his thumb nail. "Who jumped him?" The boy turned his eyes toward Trent, who cleared his throat and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"He said he didn't see who did it, but I saw Renny guys running from that way right before. Besides, you know how Renny and Chuck and them are with guys like him." Trent ran a hand through his short, spikey hair and leaned back.

Kurt continued his blank, bewildered expression.

"Renny? Lawrence Bright?" The woman asked for confirmation. The boys nodded. "Well, alright, but we don't have any proof that was the case, so. Besides, it's 1:45 and, um, I'm sorry what was your name, young man?"

"…Kurt."

"And Kurt here needs to be in group. What's your group number, Kurt?"

"I, um-" he considered for a moment simply running away and out the door, because his group number was what got him into all of this is the first place, but he instantly realized that was ridiculous.

He licked his lips and gasped as he recognized the dirty, coppery taste of blood. He looked down and saw specks of blood on his white V-neck and even a couple drops on the floor. He brought his hand up to his mouth where the pain was coming from and cringed as he felt a sharp sting and a cut on his lip. Pulling away his hand, he inspected a surprising amount of blood and then remembered he was answering a question.

"Uh…14." He responded, still staring in shocked horror at the blood on his fingers and palm.

"Yes, alright, well-"

"No, Ms. Webber! That's Renny's group. He'll kill him. He's a total homophobe. He already fucked him up." Blaine spoke argumentatively, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair.

Kurt paled. Is it that obvious that I'm gay…? Was this all some weird plan to…to…protect me?

Ms. Webber sighed. "Look, as I said before, there really isn't any proof that Mr. Bright was involved in-"

"The fuck he wasn't involved!" Wes exclaimed, standing abruptly from his chair, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"Language, Mr. Montgomery! And sit down!" The Asian boy did as he was told. The woman sighed. "But yes, I understand your concerns… I suppose I could transfer him to my gr-"

She was interrupted by a chorus of 'yes's and exaggerated relieved sighing.

Ms. Webber rolled her eyes. "Right. Very well. Mr., uh, Kurt," she turned to the boy. "Please take a seat and I'll be back. I need to speak with Mr. Talley." She placed a hand on Kurt's shoulder and nodded before walking out the door Kurt had come in and closing it behind her.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Kurt was surrounded by a group of slightly panic-expression ridden boys.

"Are you alright, man?"

"Sorry about that, bro."

"Damn, you're bleedin' pretty bad."

Kurt took a step back and looked at the faces in front of him. David, Wes, Trent, the others he knew. The boys that remained sitting stared up at the interaction with matching quizzical expressions.

Blaine approached him with a handful of tissues and began pressing it against his face, causing Kurt to flinch away and suck in a sharp breath.

Blaine raised his damn pierced eyebrow, but looked slightly concerned. "Er, sorry. Here. Just fucking…hold still." His eyebrows furrowed together in concentration as he hesitantly reached forward to hold Kurt's jaw in his hand and very carefully started dabbing his lip and mouth. Kurt froze, never having experienced such a gentle touch like this is such a long time, let alone from a boy. "Jesus Trent, what the fuck?" Blaine muttered annoyingly as he continued wiping the young boy's face, eyeing the amount of blood on the tissues.

Trent, who was standing at a slight distance with the other group of standing boys, rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Yeah, man, sorry about that. I wasn't aiming for your-"

"YEAH, TRENT, WHAT THE FUCK?" Kurt exclaimed suddenly, stepping to the side, away from the curly-haired boy to get a view at the large teen. "You could have told me you were planning some weird shit to get me into your group or something!" He narrowed his eyes, but remained in place as Blaine resumed his cleaning, now putting a slight amount of pressure, attempting to remove the dried blood from where it had run down his neck. No one seemed particularly fazed by his outburst, though Wes turned to Trent with a cocked eyebrow.

"You didn't tell him?"

"No! I mean, yeah! I told him! But… after… And I don't think he really heard me because he was all freaked out and bloody and shit. I guess I should think these things through better."

Blaine scoffed from where he was looking intently at a very blushing Kurt, turning his jaw with his hand and inspecting his lip closely. Seemingly satisfied, he pulled away and balled up the bloodied tissues and threw them in a nearby trash bin. "Well, Kurt, your lip doesn't need stitches. And Trent," he turned towards the boy in question as he made his way back to his seat with the other standing students. "Learn something new every day." He let out a low chuckle and Kurt was sure he'd never heard anything more beautiful in his life.

Beautiful and…arousing. How can something make you breathless in awe and make your dick twitch in horniness at the same time? In fact, how could anything make him so horny so easily-?

"Hummel?" Kurt snapped his head up at his name and saw Jeff patting an empty seat between him and David with an almost knowing smile on his face.

Kurt swallowed, took a few slow, long strides, and sat down gingerly on the wooden chair, realizing everyone was staring at him expectantly.

"So you are gay, aren't you? We didn't just risk getting our asses maimed for a total hetero did we?" Thad questioned, crossing his arms over his chest, but there was a smile on his face.

"N-no…I'm…gay." Kurt whispered, even though he knew everyone could hear him. His eyes raked over the other occupants of the room, who seemed to be giving him mild interest, but there were no negative responses to his confession. Then that chuckle that made Kurt's heart stop sounded throughout the room again.

"Don't look so scared. We're not the ones you want to hide your sexuality from." Blaine said sincerely, running a hand through his still slightly damp curls.

"Yeah, we don't give a shit if you like gettin' it on with guys. But seriously, we weren't fucking around. Renny and his goons might not have been the one to split your lip this time, but they will not hesitate to fuck you up. Consider this very minor compared to what would happen if you had to share a classroom with that guy everyday. I mean, Lawrence is in here because him and his friends bashed in some gay guy's head." Nick looked at Kurt seriously.

Kurt's eyes widened. "He…killed someone?"

"What? No! They'd send you to fucking jail if you killed someone. Fucked him up pretty good though. But really, stay away from that guy. We'll point him out to you next time we see him." David gave him a pat on the arm that he willed himself not to jerk away from and a small reassuring smile.

"Well…I guess…thank you, for…" Kurt smiled and let out a small laugh. "…For punching me in the face, then."

The boys broke out into small bursts of chuckles and nodded, silently saying 'you're welcome.'

A few minutes later, Ms. Webber came back into the room, claiming a certain Mr. Bright denied all violent acts involving the new, young student, but was still able to transfer Kurt into her group therapy class.

"So Mr. Hummel, let's start with you, then. Share something about yourself."

"…What do you want to know?"

"How about you tell us how you got here?" The woman offered gently.

"Well… To be completely honest, I'm not sure I remember." Kurt stared with a blank expression at the woman who raised an eyebrow in question. "I mean I got punched in the face and then next thing I know I'm standing here next to some blonde guy. I don't actually know the way, I just kind of followed him." He let a small smirk curl on his injured lips.

Across the room from him, a student with shaggy brown hair brought his fist to his mouth to cover his smile. Someone in the room coughed exaggeratedly. Ms. Webber cleared her throat and removed her glasses. Kurt's smile fell.

"Let me rephrase that more clearly, then. Why don't you tell us what brought you to Dalto-?"

"No."

Silence. A few of the boys traded glances and the teacher blinked a few times.

"Excuse me?"

"Absolutely not. No, that is not something anyone here has any business knowing." He raised his chin haughtily and crossed his legs, turning his head to face away from the teacher.

"What? Dude! We totally told you what we were in for!" Jeff whined, leaning forward in his chair towards the young boy. Kurt snuck a glance at the blonde boy and sighed.

"Don't call me 'Dude.'" He replied automatically, forgetting the kind of people he was surrounded by. Luckily, a few disgruntled huffs were all he got in response. He heard the rustling of papers and he turned his eyes towards Ms. Webber. She was opening a manila folder and flipping through the contents before stopping on one and squinting down at it.

"What are you doing?"

She glanced up at him and shrugged her shoulders. "I have your records Mr. Hummel, and am at liberty to discuss them. There are no privacy privileges here. We're a reform school, Mr. Hummel, not a summer fun camp."

He glanced around nervously as she continued to look at the open page. She skimmed along with her pointer finger before reaching something that made her hand flinch back as though the paper burned her. She shot a quick glance back up at Kurt and closed the file.

Thick silence filled the room.

Someone coughed purposely again and the teacher opened her mouth, looking ready to say something, but Kurt cut her off.

"It was out of self-defense, I swear." All eyes turned to him as he spoke guiltily, like a child trying to convince his mother.

Both of Blaine's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "What…was out of self-?"

"Voluntary manslaughter." Ms. Webber spoke softly but firmly, folding her hands together on her lap in front of her and cocking an eyebrow at the young boy, as if daring him to argue or deny her words.

If the circumstances were different, Kurt would have found the identical eyes widening and jaws dropping of each of the boys before him comical. A sick part of his brain actually felt proud to have freaked out a bunch of juvenile delinquents, but even that wasn't enough to keep the sick, dizzying nausea to rise in his stomach as he thought of that day… As he thought of the knife, and the blood…

Before he knew what was happening, he found himself hunched over the trash bin on the far end of the room, heaving and choking onto his bloody tissues from earlier. After his stomach was out of contents to rid itself of, he spit the remaining bile from his mouth and kept his head down, squeezing his eyes shut.

This was going to be a long day.