A/N: This was written for an angst meme prompt. It's AU from early season 2 (pre-Never Been Kissed), so no Blaine, sadly. I really wanted to focus on Kurt's relationships with the other members of New Directions, without a shiny new almost-boyfriend coming in to try to save the day. I hope you like. Please review. :)

The last words Kurt said were "Screw you." After that, he stood calmly, face covered in slushy and waited for Azimio and Karofsky's response. Later, as he picked himself out of the dumpster and began to brush himself off, he almost felt as though it was worth it. Then he noticed the terrible, greasy stain on his new jacket and fought the urge to cry.

Kurt drove himself home, got changed into something clean and turned on the television for a bit of noise. He spread out his books to do his homework, worked methodically through it, then placed the books neatly back into his bag. He made himself dinner, leaving an extra serve in the fridge for Dad, who was working late to make up for the hours he'd missed while invalid after his heart attack. Kurt ate his food, cleaned the dishes, had a shower, brushed his teeth, got into pyjamas and lay there with a novel until he felt sleepy. He got up to turn out the light, slipped into bed and fell asleep.

The next morning, he woke up early, as usual. He was a naturally early riser, so he didn't need an alarm clock. He began his careful skin care routine and laid out three choices of outfit before deciding. His dad was still asleep, so he had breakfast alone and hurried out of the house so that he could arrive at school before the bullies and escape their taunts.

He camped out in the library and enjoyed the blissful silence as he sat back on one of the chairs with his book. Mercedes came in, but she knew better than to interrupt, instead sitting beside him with a magazine. The bell rang. Rather than facing a lecture from the librarians about noise in the library, they waved without speaking and hurried to different homerooms. Their teacher knew all their names and had gotten in the habit of marking the roll by sight, so Kurt was free to sit back and continue reading. The next class was math. Kurt glared at Brittany and Santana for gossiping in the back row, before focusing on what the teacher was saying. Kurt had a free period next, which he spent alone in the library working on his math homework to free up his afternoon for whatever crazy project Schue would inevitably throw at them in Glee.

The Glee meeting was during morning break. He was slushied on the way to the choir room. When he arrived, Mercedes, Tina and Quinn were gossiping about the club's latest romantic drama. Kurt had nothing to add, so he rolled his eyes and sat in the back with his eyes closed, lazily eavesdropping. They knew better than to comment on his slushy-strained shirt. The boys came in like a tidal wave, a loud flurry of noise and activity. Kurt daydreamed that he was sunbathing on a beach in, say, LA; maybe it could be a private beach which he'd bought with the fortune he'd earned from his iconic Broadway career and from the fabulous fashion line he'd started in his spare time. It was so relaxed that he was momentarily annoyed when Schue rushed in like a steam train, already ranting excitedly about the virtues of some fifty-year-old has-been that Kurt had never heard of.

Eventually he was calling Kurt up to perform his assignment from the previous week. Kurt rolled his eyes in the direction of Mercedes and Tina before stalking to the centre of the room. He'd told Brad the song he was performing when they'd had a run-through yesterday, so Kurt didn't feel the need for explanation. He clicked his fingers to signal that he was ready and took a deep breath to prepare himself for the first note. He opened his mouth, ready to sing.

Nothing came out.

He took a deep breath and tried again. Nothing.

The song rolled on for a few moments before anyone noticed that something was wrong. Brad stopped playing.

"You missed your queue, Kurt," said Will. "You want to start again?"

Kurt looked at Will, panicked. Was this stage fright? He never got stage fright! It was like a nightmare!

He opened his mouth to say, Yes, please, but nothing came out. Kurt started to hyperventilate.

"Are you okay, Kurt?" Will asked.

No, he tried to say. Everyone was staring at him silently now, eyes wide. He looked at Will and shook his head. I can't talk, he tried to say, but, again, nothing came out.

Kurt abruptly walked to the chairs and sat down. The room was silent. He could have heard a pin drop. He could hear his own heavy breathing and the rustling sound of people turning to stare at him.

What's going on? he tried to ask Mercedes.

She looked at him, eyes serious. She's seen his lips move and nothing come out; they all had. Now she could probably see the helpless tears starting to well in his eyes. "I think we should go see the nurse."

Kurt looked down, humiliated and mutely followed her out of the room.

The nurse wasn't able to find anything wrong, but when Mercedes explained the situation (because Kurt couldn't) she called his father. While they waited, Mercedes passed Kurt a notebook and a pen; Kurt grabbed them in relief.

What's happening? he asked her.

"I don't know," she said.

Dad arrived, looking almost as panicked as Kurt felt. Kurt fell into his father's arms. Dad drove Kurt to the hospital. The car ride was in an awkward silence, with Kurt unable to speak and his father unsure what to say. The doctors poked and prodded and examined Kurt, but couldn't find anything. He said that these things happen sometimes, inexplicably, though he promised to run further tests.

Will it come back? Kurt asked in his notebook.

The doctor had to shrug and say that he didn't know.

Kurt spent the next two days in his room at home. Members of New Directions had texted him one by one. Finn had said he was "real sorry, bro, cos I know you love those high notes." Rachel admonished him for damaging their chances at Sectionals, before suggesting half a dozen possible vocal care regimes that she thought might help. Mercedes, Tina and Artie simply asked if he was feeling okay. Puck claimed relief that Kurt wouldn't be able to attack him with those sarcastic quips. Santana promised to beat up anyone who picked on him. Sam texted him some reference to a Buffy episode where the characters had been magically silenced, before promising that everything would be all right. Mike offered to teach him to dance. Brittany sent him a smiley face.

After two days stuck in his room, only venturing up for meals when his father was out of the house, Kurt was bored out of his mind. His voice showed no sign of coming back and he knew that it was time to return to school.

Kurt tried to convince himself that he was as fabulous as ever. He still had his sharp intellect, razor wit and impeccable fashion sense. He was voiceless, but that didn't mean he couldn't make a statement. He was just going to have to work that much harder to show the rest of the world how amazing he was. With that in mind, he chose his favourite outfit and set it on the bed while he went through his usual morning skin care regime. Dressed, he ventured upstairs and waved hello to Dad.

He felt his father watching him as he made breakfast. When the toast popped, Kurt carried it and his glass of juice to the kitchen table to sit next to Dad.

I'm going back to school, he wrote in the pocket notebook he'd bedecked with sequins for the occasion.

"You sure you're ready?" his father asked, hesitantly.

Kurt forced himself to nod confidently, hiding his nervousness under a cool mask.

"Okay," said Dad. Kurt noted a hint of dubiousness in his father's voice. He decided to ignore it. "I'll give you a lift on my way to work."

Kurt shook his head. I'll drive myself, he wrote.

Arriving at school, Kurt found his usual spot free. He decided that was a good omen. He was hurrying into school when he heard a voice call out from behind him.

"Hey, Hummel."

Kurt turned slowly.

It was Azimio, backed by half the football team. He wore a smug smirk, almost like Sue Sylvester when she thought she'd destroyed Glee by leaking their set list at Sectionals.

"Think you're too good for us, huh? Hurrying past before your morning dumpster toss?"

Kurt opened his mouth to offer a snappy retort. He felt a chill as he realised he couldn't.

"What've you got to say for yourself?" asked Azimio. There was a malicious gleam in his eyes.

Kurt put his bag on the ground to save it from the dumpster toss and held his hands out, defiantly offering himself to them.

"What's the matter, homo? Cat got your tongue?" Azimio laughed.

Kurt looked him right in the eye with as much dignity as he could muster. Do it, he tried to convey telepathically.

"Little faggot's got nothing to say," Azimio told the others. They nodded and laughed. Then, quickly, before Kurt could prepare himself, Azimio picked him up and tossed him in the dumpster. Kurt heard a thud as his bag landed beside him.

He took a second, then forced his cool mask back on and clambered out of the dumpster. He took a quick detour to his locker for a spare pair of clothes before hurrying to the bathroom to clean up. He hadn't told anyone he was coming back, so he was able to get there and change before any of the Glee kids noticed his state of dishevelment.

As Kurt walked out of the bathroom, he was hit full in the face by a slushy. The red liquid dripped down onto his spare clothes, irretrievably ruining them.

"Oops," said Karofsky, smirking. He high-fived his mates as he walked off.

Everything was getting blurry. Kurt realised that it was because he was crying. Thankfully the slushy disguised his tears, but he could feel the slight catch in his breathing. He tried to calm himself down. If he was seen crying in front of everyone, he could never show his face again. It would just reinforce to them that he was as weak as they all thought he was.

That was when Kurt heard a voice call his name. It was Mercedes and she was staring at him, concerned.

Kurt held up one finger: Don't say anything.

Mercedes took the hint. "I didn't know you were coming back today."

Kurt pulled out his notebook. It was only slightly slushy-stained. I was going stir-crazy at home.

Mercedes' expression dropped. "So your voice still isn't back, yet?"

Kurt shook his head and shrugged as though it was something unimportant. His act must not have been as good as he hoped, though, because Mercedes looked at him with something like pity. Well, that didn't say much for planned career on Broadway.

"It'll come back soon, though," she said.

Kurt tried to convince himself she was right and offered his most brilliant smile.

She winced. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

After being de-slushied as much as was possible, Kurt walked with Mercedes to their lockers. Sometimes they were able to walk side-by-side in a companionable silence. This wasn't one of those times. Mercedes was obviously bristling with things she wanted to say but biting her tongue because she knew that Kurt couldn't respond. Kurt, for his part, was wishing she'd just say something already so that things would feel marginally less strange.

Kurt pulled out his notebook. What did you think of last night's Modern Family?

Mercedes grabbed on to the topic with gusto. Kurt didn't admit he hadn't watched the episode and let the words wash over him as Mercedes did enough talking for them both.

The bell rang.

"See you in Glee," said Mercedes, heading off to class.

In homeroom, Kurt had planned to pull out his book like he usually did, but was distracted by everyone's staring. It's because I'm so fabulous, he told himself as he tried to ignore their attention. He still felt uneasy. He spent the morning's classes fighting the urge to turn around and scream at everyone who was staring at him, knowing that he couldn't even if he wanted to. Morning break was Glee again. Kurt was determined to go, despite everything. Everyone looked at him pityingly as he walked in. Kurt took his seat beside Mercedes as though everything was fine.

Schue rushed in with his usual flurry of energy. "Has everyone got their solo projects ready for today?" he asked. He stopped when he saw Kurt and smiled. "It's great that you're back. We could really use you."

Kurt knew it was a platitude, but he accepted it with a graceful nod.

"Who wants to go first?" Schue asked.

It was actually torture for Kurt, to watch everyone singing and not be able to join in with everyone else. He clapped along to the beat and swayed as best he could, but he felt... alone. Separate. Not a part of it. He clapped enthusiastically with everyone else at the end of each performance and left the meeting feeling numb. He walked with Mercedes and Tina to their lockers to get books for next period, listening to them talk about whose solo they liked best. It was too much trouble to try to scribble a note to join in, so he let them go at it.

Everything was fine one moment – he was standing by the lockers, listening to Mercedes and Tina and thinking up sarcastic quips that he wouldn't get to say out loud. The next he felt a hand push him from behind and he slammed into his locker, hard enough that he dropped the books he was holding. He caught a glimpse of Karofsky's smirking face as he turned to face his aggressor.

"What's wrong with you!" he tried to shout. "What the fuck was that about?" It was only when everyone stared at him pityingly that he remembered that he couldn't talk and everyone had just seen him trying to shout with no words coming out and this whole thing became just that little bit more pathetic.

For the first time in Kurt's life, he turned and ran. He left his locker hanging open and his books where they'd landed and his bag where he'd rested it on the floor and ran. He ran out of the school, to his car, then all the way home. He didn't notice the moment he started crying; hell, it could have been back in that hall. He locked himself down in his basement and turned on the soundtrack from the Hunchback of Notre Dame, turning up the volume loud so that it could drown out his thoughts and lay on the bed, seeking oblivion.

He didn't hear the knock on the door. He noticed when the music turned off and someone sat on his bed next to him. Kurt scrunched himself up further. It would be humiliating for his dad to see his tear-stricken face.

"The school called to say you left early," Dad said.

Kurt turned to face him. Dad took in the look and clarified.

"No, they didn't call to get you in trouble. They just wanted to check if you're okay."

Kurt tried to give his best okay look so that his father would go away and leave him alone, but wasn't particularly surprised when his father sighed and shuffled slightly closer.

"I did worry that you were going back too early, but maybe you were right. God knows you can't hide down here forever. It's going to get better, slowly, even though you probably don't believe me at the moment."

Kurt pulled out his notebook and scribbled furiously. I'm never going back.

"Yes, you are," said Burt. "You know the saying – if you fall off the horse, you climb straight back on. I don't know anyone who took that to heart more than you. You gotta go back there and show yourself that you're not scared."

Kurt frowned at Burt.

"You don't like me saying you might be scared, do you?"

Kurt knew that his father was trying to gall him into going back to school to avoid losing face. That didn't stop it working slightly. It wasn't enough, though, to erase the memory of today's humiliation.

Kurt snuggled against his father and felt his father put one arm around his shoulder and use the other to take his hand.

"You're a strong kid, Kurt," said Burt. "Stronger than anyone I know. I pity those other kids when you get your stride back, cos you'll be amazing, like always."

Do I have to go back there, though? Kurt asked.

"We can't afford private school," Burt said. Kurt knew that he was lying – the family business was quite profitable, enough so that Burt could afford to indulge Kurt's taste for nice clothes and buy him a good car without straining the budget. It didn't really matter, though. If his father wanted him to go back, Kurt would go back. No one got to push Hummels around.

The next morning, Kurt slept in. If he was all psycho-analytical, he'd have said that it was to avoid facing getting ready for school, but, he reasoned, it was just that he was tired after a long, emotional day and needed the rest. That was all. Kurt skipped his skincare routine to make up for time and dressed in whatever was lying around. There was no point co-ordinating an outfit if he was just going to get slushied. Maybe this way, he wouldn't stand out so much and the bullies would miss him.

He drove himself to school in silence. Usually, he'd have the soundtrack from Wicked on as background noise and inevitably end up singing along. This morning, it felt like there was no point. He pressed the mute button as soon as he climbed into the car.

With his head down and shoulders drooping, no one gave Kurt a second look. He was just like any other beaten and downtrodden kid; not the fabulous boy who managed to turn heads wherever he went. He grabbed his books out of his locker quickly and hid himself in a deserted corner of the library before anyone he knew could find him and ask him how he was feeling and whether his voice had come back yet.

In class it was harder, because he had a double-period of math with Artie and Artie kept shooting him concerned looks. The teacher was strict, though, and hated it when his students talked or passed notes, so Kurt put his head down and focused on his work. He trailed after Artie as they headed out of class and joined him and the other Glee kids in the cafeteria. They were kind enough not to say anything about yesterday. The conversation was innocuous and relaxing; Kurt was able to sit back and listen without anything being expected of him.

The Cheerios girls disappeared to practice as soon as they'd finished eating. No one asked why he wasn't following – they knew that Sue wouldn't have a use for a voiceless singer. They covered the departure smoothly by turning the discussion to the subject of pop music.

The rest of the day also passed smoothly. Kurt focused on his work and stayed in close proximity to the Glee kids. The bullies had apparently found a new target and were ignoring him. After school, Kurt was supposed to have a Glee meeting. Mercedes gave Kurt an odd look when he wrote her a note saying that he wasn't going.

"Why the hell not?"

There's no point, he wrote. Glee is a choir, you know, for singers. I can't sing. Could you pass on my resignation to the others, please?

Mercedes sighed. "I'll pass on what you said, but don't be surprised when we all turn up at your place afterwards and force you to come back. This is just me getting reinforcements, you hear?"

Kurt shrugged and waved. He arrived home to find his father waiting for him. Burt had rearranged his shifts to make sure he was there if Kurt needed him. He smiled at Kurt, apparently happy that his son appeared less distressed than the day before.

"One day at a time," he told Kurt as Kurt retreated down to his basement.

Kurt lay back on his bed with his iPod to rest. He somehow wasn't surprised to hear a knock on his door only ten minutes later.

"You've got friends here," said Burt.

Kurt took out his earphones and watched as the entire Glee club, including Mr Schuester filed in and stood before him.

"Mercedes said you weren't able to come to Glee practice, so we decided to bring Glee practice to you," Mr Schuester explained.

Kurt glared at Mercedes. She smiled sweetly back at him.

"She passed on everything you said, or, uh, wrote," Finn added. "We just wanted to say that we don't care and we want you to stay in the club."

"We need more dancers," Rachel added, "and Mike and Brittany were excited to teach you some new steps."

It was surprisingly fun. Someone set up a dance track on his stereo and the whole club spent the session going through new and exciting dance moves. By the end of it, Kurt was grinning, though he wasn't entirely sure why.

"Saturday at ten," Schuester said to him as they filed out. "We need to work out our set-list for Sectionals and we could all use your input."

Mercedes hung back, smiling at him. Thanks, Kurt mouthed.

She winked back at him in a soundless you're welcome, before leaving him to digest the day's events.

Kurt was just getting ready to tidy up when he noticed Brittany standing blankly in a corner. Kurt tapped her cautiously on the shoulder.

He indicated the empty space and the stairs, miming out that everyone had left.

"I like your room, too," she said, apparently missing the point, "Though it reminds me of that place where I got lost when I was looking for a magic lion in my wardrobe."

Kurt fought the urge to facepalm.

"Oh, yeah!" Brittany said, remembering why she'd hung back. "Ms Sylvester asked me to talk to you."

Kurt inclined his head slightly to give a quizzical look.

"She wanted to know why you weren't at practice today."

Kurt's eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up.

"She said you'd do that look, like a door opened in your face," Brittany observed. "She told me to say that you're still on the team, though if you miss too many practices you won't be able to get all the lifts and everything at Nationals and then she'll have to shout at you. You don't want her shouting at you."

Kurt smiled at her and gave her a thumbs-up. Brittany smiled back at him and left him in peace.

Suddenly the world seemed a little brighter. Kurt plugged his iPod into the stereo and played the Wicked soundtrack as he tidied his room back to its usual impeccable self. Three songs later, he smiled at the realisation that he was dancing along.

It was funny, but life went on. Kurt joined Brittany and Mike for extra practice sessions and surprised himself by becoming one of Glee's better dancers. Mr Schue offered him his first official solo during a musical interlude in the Glee club's performance of 'Dancing Through Life', a song Kurt was pretty sure he'd chosen to please Kurt as much as to please Rachel. Kurt learned to walk on stilts and juggle flaming knives for the Cheerios and considered taking up fire-breathing so that he could become an all-round circus performer. Tina discovered a passion for magic and trained him up in her best tricks so that he could be her assistance. Sectionals came. Rachel made a point of going up to the hot lead singer of one of the competing teams and getting his email address on Kurt's behalf. Afterwards, the Glee club focused its entire mindless energy on Regionals while Sue Sylvester pushed the Cheerios to their limits so that they could take Nationals.

The bullies ignored Kurt, now that he was just another nobody, rather than the strange kid with an unusual fashion sense and a voice like he'd been sucking helium. Without his strange, high pitched voice, Kurt could almost fit in. He almost liked it that way and made sure to do nothing in the halls that would catch their attention.

At least he tried to convince himself he did.

Kurt filled his first notebook writing notes to his friends and went on to fill half a dozen more. He got told off in class for passing notes to Santana. The teacher asked him what he had to say to Santana that he couldn't say out loud to the rest of the class and Kurt's first response was to laugh rather than cry, especially when the teacher went red after realising what she'd said. Brittany finally learnt to read so that she wouldn't be locked out of their conversations. Kurt kept all the notebooks and notes and locked them in a special box on his bookshelf where nobody but he could read them.

Every morning, before he got dressed, he put on the latest Gaga CD and tried to sing along in the hope that maybe his voice had returned overnight. As the weeks passed, he felt less and less surprised and disappointed when nothing came out. Miming along was sort of fun anyway, especially since it meant that he wasn't going to hit a bum-note that everyone complained about or be teased for singing like a girl. When someone in Glee joked that they should tape one of the girls singing for Kurt to mime along to so that he could feel a part of it, Kurt instead suggested that they tape Finn's voice and he smiled when everyone cracked up laughing.

Even so, his father was surprised when Kurt told him that he wanted to take a class in sign language. "Your voice is going to come back, Kurt."

It's been six months, Kurt wrote. I somehow doubt that it will ever... Kurt stopped and crossed that out and tried again. I can't live my life waiting for something that might never happen. It's like you said – I can't hide from the world forever. I've got to get back on the horse or some other awful mixed metaphor and get out there and live my life regardless.

Burt gave his blessing and joined Kurt in signing up for a night class at the local community centre.

The next day at school, Kurt and Mercedes sat beside each other in history. Kurt wrote her a note asking what she thought of Abraham Lincoln's sexuality. She made a face. Kurt handed over his notebook so that she could write a reply and turned to pay attention to the board. When she handed back the notebook, Kurt looked down at a blank page and turned to her, confused. She looked unusually grave.

Later, she mouthed and turned to the board, forcing Kurt to go back to paying attention to the lesson.

"Do you really think your voice is never going to come back?" she asked as they walked out of the classroom.

Kurt closed his eyes, realising that she'd flicked back through the past pages in the notebook and read his conversation with his father.

No, I don't, he wrote to her.

"What about your dreams of being a star on Broadway or the next Lady Gaga or whatever and showing the world how amazing you are?"

Kurt felt a twinge as he wrote his response. Not all dreams come true.

Mercedes patted his shoulder. "Tell me when this night class is, and I'll sign up to. That way, even after you've gotten your voice back, we can have secret conversations across the Glee room without anyone else knowing what we're talking about."

Kurt smiled at her gratefully. That was when it happened. For the first time in months, Azimio walked by with a slushy and threw it so that it hit Kurt right in the face. Azimio walked on without even looking to see Kurt's reaction.

Kurt fought the urge to cry. He hunched his shoulders up and leant back against the locker, blinking rapidly to stop tears welling up.

"Are you all right?" Mercedes asked.

Kurt nodded quickly.

In the past, that might have put Mercedes off. Today she asked again, "No, really, are you okay?" Kurt realised that she was asking about something deeper than just the slushy or his voice.

Kurt was about to nod again, but the tears were already rolling down his cheeks. He rethought and shook his head instead. Mercedes quickly pulled him over into the empty choir room and closed the door behind them so that he could have some privacy. Kurt tried to smile gratefully, but it turned into a sort of grimace. Kurt heard a sobbing sound, first softly, then louder and Kurt took a long moment to realise that it was his voice, for the first time in months. He started screaming softly and tried to reign it in, but Mercedes pulled him into a hug and patted his back, whispering to him to cry it out. After what felt like only seconds, though it was probably much longer, Kurt quietened and pulled away.

"Fuck," he whispered and, hearing his voice, husky from disuse, he started crying again. The bell rang, but neither of them made a move to leave. They sat side-by-side on the chairs. Mercedes took Kurt's hand and held it and let him have the time to cry.

They were still sitting there, more composed, when the rest of the Glee club walked in all at once for their afternoon meeting. Kurt realised belatedly that he probably looked dreadful with red eyes and tear stained cheeks and snot running down his face.

"Here," said Mercedes, doing her mind-reading thing and handing him a tissue.

"Thanks," he whispered as he accepted it.

"Did mute-boy just speak?" Puck asked, eyes wide.

The rest of the club looked at them, grinning wildly (at his recovery, Kurt hoped, rather than his depressed visage).

"When did your voice come back?" Finn asked.

Kurt shrugged, before remembering that he could talk again. "Maybe an hour ago?" He sounded terrible, he realised. He could do hours of vocal practice each day and it would still take months to get his voice back into shape.

It would be worth it, though.

Mr Schuester smiled at him. "Have you told your father, yet?"

"No, I—this is new," he said again, giving everyone a pleading look begging them not to ask him to say anything else. It was too much at the moment.

"You should go tell him," Schuester said.

Kurt nodded. He looked at Mercedes and she smiled at him.

"I'll come with you," she said.

They didn't say anything on the drive over to his Dad's garage. They didn't need to. Kurt knew that they'd have several long and important discussions over the next few days but for now, having her there was important enough.

When she stopped outside to let him see his father in private, they didn't need to say anything. She smiled at him and waved, then leaned against the wall. He smiled and waved back. Sometimes you could say what you wanted without speaking.