Revolved

Chapter Three: Three Little Words

HEY YALL! Sorry this updates sprat late, I've had a rough week. Also, I re-wrote this like five times because my muse seems to have walked out the door. He's such an ass.

Even more follows and favorites! OMG. *squeals like a little girl* thanks! You are truly the people that put a smile to my face at 5:30 in the morn, and that's saying something!

To my single, most favorite Review! DJTCluva: I love cliffhangers! Aren't they funtabulous? I hope you didn't have to wait to too long. If you did, I am regrettable sorry. And not to put any pressure, but I would love a review on how you think my ending is.

If I owned Glee, I wouldn't really have to write fanfics, would i? I could just make it real.

You never know how strong you are…until being strong is the only choice you have.

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Some how he found himself in the exact same situation he was in less than fifteen minutes ago. The only difference was now he knew Puck had been shot, and Rachel was too busy to calm him down.

"Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh! My! God! You shot Puck! Why did you do that? I don't understand. He didn't do anything!"

"He was just trying to help my boy. My boy. Jonathan. Oh my Jonathan!" the woman clutched her children to her shoulders; franticly telling them everything would be alright. Not that the kids had two senses of what was really going on.

He dropped to his knees, not even caring that his Marc Jacobs jeans filled with the sticky liquid and created a wave in the small pool of blood. He placed his shaking, white, cold hands over the wound, heaving as the blood gushed through his fingers and snaked down his delicate wrists.

"Kurt," he glanced through his lashes, looking at the surprisingly pale face, looking quickly away as to not meet the pain filled honey chocolate eyes, "Kurt, look at me," a gentle hand was placed onto his cheek, turning the chin with a light touch. Sure, he could have resisted, but he found himself looking into those eyes. "I'm gonna' be alright. We'll have that BBQ later."

Kurt nodded his head, and the hand went again for his face, only this time it was to wipe away the tears that slowly leaked to his drip off his nose.

"Don't cry. You'll get you're damned sissy tears in my war wound and it'll get infected."

Kurt shook his head, sending the salt water flying from his face. "You're so stupid. It's not a war wound! You were dumb and you got shot for it. And you're getting your blood all over the place," by now he could hardly see the skin of his hands under the dark red. It was a lot of blood, more than any cuts and scrapes than he ever had. Kurt would never admit it, but he was terrified. "You are so stupid, I hate you!"

While their private conversation continued, one of the employees had gotten the staff rooms' first aid kit. Complete with gauze and a band aid. A light hand pressed onto Kurt's shoulder, and he turned to except the gauze. "Here, son, you're going to have to press harder than that. Here, let me…"

The man tried to brush Kurt to the side, but he shook his head. If anyone had to heal Puck, it was him. Instead, he removed his hands, allowing the employee to place the material quickly over the hole.

He returned his hands, pressing harder this time, and Puck inched away. "Ouch. Bitch. That hurt!"

"Oh, suck it up, sissy." They shared a quivering smile, but he looked quickly back to the shirt, inspecting the woven threads. All the sudden, the pressure of keeping Puck from bleeding out was too much and he looked around for Rachel.

She was no longer behind him. Kurt looked up and into the dusty red beard of Willis. His back was to the door, and he was staring at Puck with contentment. Like what he did wasn't that bad. Puck's breathing hitched and Kurt pressed firmly against his chest, trying to ignore the fingers that dug painfully into his exposed ankle.

A phone rang through the silence and Willis made a grab for the cell hidden deep in his pocket. Kurt listened carefully, trying, and failing, to make out the voice on the other side. "Diversion. Then we can meet out back. Alright." He clicked the phone shut, glaring around the room and raising the gun, "All right. In exactly ten minutes, the police are going to bust through that door, but I'm not going to be here anymore. None of you leave before then, or I will come and shoot you. Only this time, I won't miss."

Kurt looked up and glared into the ugly face of the killer before he snorted and spun through the door, closing it firmly behind him.

"I hope they catch him."

"Ten fricken minutes."

"Mommy, is the bad guy gone?"

"Kurt? Are you okay?"

Kurt shook himself, forcing his eyes onto Rachel, who was sitting with the little girl cradled in her lap. Kurt nodded his head, moving to rub his nose on his shoulder. After all, he wasn't the one that got shot. He would be fine…Puck on the other hand…

The conversation continued on, stressed and attempting to be casual. Kurt focused on his breathing, and making sure Puck was still alive. It pained him to see the usually tanned skin of his boyfriends to be pale and cold.

The door to the room suddenly burst open, making everyone jump and a couple to scream. Kurt winced and placed his hands back to the body, pressing his hands once again as Puck grunted with pain.

The police officer who stood in the door frame placed his hand to his shoulder, talking quickly into the walkie-talkie. The people around Kurt stood, wincing as abused muscles rejected the sudden use.

A hand was placed on his shoulder, and he looked into the pained eyes of the mother, worry creased onto her forehead. "Thank you. Thank you for my son." Kurt glanced back at Puck, smiling when he raised his hand to fist pound with the little boy.

"I'll get the paramedics and call your parents," Rachel offered, shifting the weight of the little girl and scampering after everyone.

"Be right back with the stretcher, kid."

The door swung shut and they were left alone in the yellow flickering of the lights. Kurt leaned down and placed a feathering light kiss on Pucks cheek, offering a fraction of a smile when Puck turned his head and placed a weak kiss on the dry skin of Kurt's lips.

"Kurt?"

"Yes?"

"If I don't make-"

Kurt shook his head, cutting Puck off and feeling more tears leave his eyes. "Please don't talk like that. They'll be back with the stretcher soon…"

"Kurt, let me talk." Puck's voice was quiet, distant like. And Kurt sniffled up more tears, nodding his head mournfully. He took three painful breaths, face twisting with pain, and Kurt finally realized just how much pain he had been in, putting on a brave face for the others, the kids and the employees.

Puck placed another hand to his cheek, leaving three thin lines of blood down Kurt's face. He tried to speak, but choked and started to cough, a pale line of red liquid rolling over his plump lips and down his cheek to drip off his ear.

"Kurt. I. I-" his chest hitched and he started gasping, hand digging painfully into Kurt's shoes and the other trying to push the hard hands off his chest.

Kurt started to panic, breathe hitching in his chest and hands shaking over the wound, "Puck? Puck!" Puck's eyes rolled and Kurt pressed harder to his chest, shocking the football player and screaming his name, "Noah!"

"I love you."

The End! I made it *happy dance*. So, there is my three shots. I've been musing out a longer addition, add on to after the shooting and maybe back at school. But. I need input! So please let me know, in the mean time, I have a couple one shots to work on. Ill post again if I plan on making a sequel.