Title: Shining Armor

Disclaimer: …you see, were I to own glee, St. Hummel would be happening. Not that Blaine isn't supermegafoxyhot but Kurt and Jesse will always remain my OTP. Screw canon. Thus glee is not mine and the rambling disclaimer ends.

A/N: Heh heh heh…don't shoot? I had a 3 day drive down to Florida and because my mind goes "whooopseeeloopadooo" (that makes more sense with gestures) and came up with a new story, I decided to post it rather than get my ass into editing together the next chapter of Second Weakness. Yay for new story!

This town was not, Jesse decided, one he wanted to spend much time in. It barely had a passable nightlife, let alone one suited for the tastes of an exorbitantly talented young man looking for a one night stand, preferably male, who would be out of his hotel room by morning. Jesse needed to hit the road early next morning, and he didn't need some clingy "lover" who would hang around after sex. And Jesse was firmly against prostitutes-they might crop up in tabloids later on.

Oh well. Jesse was only in town for a night, and only because this town had an airport that took planes from LA. Jesse could wait until he got home and found a decent club. He sighed and began the walk back to his hotel.

Only to freeze in his tracks after walking only a few blocks. A couple of guys were blocking off the entryway to an alley, and he could make out another guy in the shadows. Jesse recognized that aggressive set to the shoulders. They had someone trapped in the alley.

Jesse hesitated, his protective urge and his self preservation instincts warring. A shriek of pain from the alley settled that particular argument, and Jesse ran towards the group. That cry was decidedly male, and having a cousin who was far less equipped to deal with homophobia made Jesse extremely aware of situations like this.

"Hey! Hey!" The two guys guarding the alley, clearly high school students, fled. Jesse skidded to a halt in front of the tallest one, a dark haired boy wearing a letterman jacket and sunglasses. Jesse waited a second to give him a chance to surrender.

"I guess fags stick together" Jesse, utilizing what a lifetime of near impossible choreography had taught him about speed and precision, kicked him in the kidneys. He followed that by jabbing him in the eye and kneeing his crotch.

Leaving the thoroughly defeated Neanderthal to flee, Jesse crouched down next to the boy who

Ohgodthisisbad

had his pants down around his ankles and was lying unmoving on the ground. He was facedown, as though one of his attackers had been the only thing holding him up. Judging by the bloodstains on what had to have been nice clothing once, that wasn't too improbable.

Jesse carefully grabbed one shoulder and turned him over, determinedly not looking at his fantastic ass. He was a terrible human being, enough people had assured him of that, but not nearly terrible enough to check out someone who was raped.

The boy was good looking certainly, with porcelain skin and light brown hair. Jesse leaned forward, frowning. Something about him was very familiar. He was sure it would hit him in a second…

"Kurt?" Kurt moaned. Jesse swore. The only thing he knew was that Kurt was a backup singer in New Directions, and that he needed medical attention now. Kurt groaned again. He had a huge cut somewhere on his head, judging by the blood drying in his hair. That meant possible concussion, which meant he was likely disoriented.

Jesse told himself to quit giving a bad diagnosis and dialed 911.

St. Hummel, ftw.

What the hell was Kurt doing in this town, two hours from Lima? Why the hell was he out alone at night without somebody to watch his back? Jesse vaguely remembered Kurt being harassed at Lima, surely he was smart enough to know that homophobia ran rampant in the general public.

"Excuse me young man, but who should we be calling about your friend?" Jesse blinked at the nurse. She was young and pretty, but Jesse was too focused on the fact that he didn't even know Kurt's last name to notice.

Crap. He had wanted to be out of town that morning.

Jesse leaned against the wall, praying that Rachel Berry was still in his contacts. Apparently Kurt hadn't had his cell phone on him, and someone had to tell his parents their son was in the hospital.

Somewhat insane ex. Jesse rolled his eyes at what he'd labeled her as and dialed.

St. Hummel ftw.

"What you sees not what you get

With you there's just no measurement

No way to tell what's real from what isn't"

Rachel blinked and looked at her phone. It was two am on Saturday night, which meant it was her sing-along classic musical night, which meant none of her friends were stupid enough to call and interrupt.

Douchebag. Rachel gaped at the caller id. Kurt had changed it for her, insisting that if she insisted on keeping Jesse in her contacts she should at least give him his proper name. She hadn't thought about Jesse in months.

Which might have been a lie. He was after all, the best boyfriend she had ever had. Maybe he wanted to get back together, sing sappy duets and discuss show tunes!

Yeah, right.

More likely he wanted something. And she'd be damned if she would just let that manipulative bastard drag her back into that train wreck.

Hmpf. Rachel put her phone to silent. Jesse would have to beg if he wanted her to touch him with a ten foot pole.

St. Hummel, ftw.

"Goddammit Rachel, answer your phone!" Jesse growled. He gnashed his teeth and regretted letting his peers break her so cruelly. He hadn't even seen Kurt since the doctors took him away, and if he was seriously hurt…

Jesse did what he always did on the rare occasions he was in serious trouble. He called Shelby.

"Jesse! Why it's only been 34 days since you last called, the classes must have kept you busy!" He could hear Beth crying in the background. "Look as much as I appreciate you calling, Beth is teething and I really need to go-"

"Wait!" Jesse hoped his tone was desperate enough for her to not hang up. "Do you still have William Schuester's phone number?"

There was a pregnant pause, in which the only noise was Beth's wails.

"Why?" Shelby sounded more confused than worried. She wasn't used to Jesse actually sounding concerned about something.

"This kid Kurt, who was in that glee club, I found him getting…" Jesse swallowed. "Beat up. Rachel refuses to pick up her phone, and I don't know how to get in contact with his folks."

"The poor boy." There was a sound like shuffling papers and plastic clunking. "Give me a bit of time, I'll see if I still have it around here somewhere. I'll call you as soon as I find it." Shelby hung up. Jesse glared around the corridor, frustration building.

He hated not doing anything. For about half an hour Jesse stalked around the waiting room, scaring various other waiters until his phone went off.

"I'm bringing sexy ba-" Jesse had it to his ear before the first verse of Shelby's ringtone could finish. He'd set it as a joke, and an incentive to turn his phone off in public places.

"543-321-9054. And call me sometime to just talk about when you're going to visit me once you get home." Shelby hung up immediately after and Jesse dialed the number, feelings of gratitude towards his coach slash mentor slash surrogate parent coursing through him. As soon as he was back home, he'd volunteer to babysit that hellion Beth for free.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Will groggily opened his eyes. If Terri was calling him drunk at, he checked the time, 2:17 am, again, he would find a way to sue. It had to be some form of harassment, or perhaps stalking.

"H'lo?"

"William Schuester? This is Jesse St. James." That woke Will up fast enough. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes.

"What do you want, wait how did you even get this number?"

"Kurt is in the hospital, and I need to call his parents." Will blinked. He hadn't talked to Kurt in awhile, and when did his former student start hanging out with Jesse St. James?

"Did you just say that Kurt's in the hospital?" Jesse's voice turned irate.

"Did I stutter? How do I contact his parents?" Will could hear the "you brain damaged cretin" being repressed for the sake of cooperation. And as against giving information to the enemy as he was, Jesse did sound legitimately concerned.

"543-980-6677 is his dad's home phone, but how did Kurt wind up in the" there was a click as Jesse hung up. Will sighed and stared broodingly at the phone. He had a feeling that if he tried to call back Jesse wouldn't bother answering.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

"Hi, this is the Hudmel household! For some reason neither, Burt, Carol or Finn can come to the phone, but if you leave a message someone will be sure to get back to you!"

"Mr. and Mrs. Hudmel, your son is in the hospital, at St. Jude's Medical Center in Dalton Township. This is Jesse St. James, an acquaintance, speaking. I cannot give you any details about his condition, as no doctor has come out to speak with me yet. Be well assured, I'll be harassing them about it in a moment. Call me back."

Jesse leaned over the desk, shooting the receptionist his most intimidating glare. She shrank.

"Kurt Hudmel was brought in nearly an hour ago, and it would be most helpful for me to get some sort of information as to his condition." She squeaked, and Jesse lightened his glare up a bit. "Now."

"I-I'll go check." She bolted. Jesse sat down and called Will Schuester again.

Ring.

Ring.

"Hello?"

"His parents didn't pick up. You should go over and wake them up." Will sighed. As much as he dislike being ordered about by someone who was probably 10 years younger than himself, he hadn't been able to sleep since hearing that Kurt was in the hospital. And Burt Hummel needed to know that something had happened to Kurt as soon as possible.

"Sure. Do you know how Kurt's doing? Why is he in the hospital?"

"I found him being" there was a pause "beaten up by a couple of mindless jocks in an alleyway, and called 911. I've been trying to contact his parents since then." Will got out of bed. For some reason, Jesse had never been the one he expected to get this call from.

"Do you know how he's doing?"

"I have a receptionist checking. There she is." Jesse hung up.

"Sir?" The nurse looked grave. "Your friend has a sprained wrist, a concussion and two cracked ribs, in addition to several severe bruises and minor cuts. He has been raped, as you stated when bringing him in, but the perpetrators were unable to ah, fully complete the deed. We have him on strong medication so it'll be a while before he wakes up, but you're welcome to stay with him." She looked at him sympathetically.

Jesse nodded and followed her into Kurt's room. He was cleaned up, and only hooked to one wire. That was comforting.

"Thank you ma'am." Jesse shot her a smile. "Let me just call his parents."

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

"Jesse St. James again. The full details on what happened to Kurt would be better stated in person, but he's not in any sort of mortal danger. William Schuester has been sent to wake you up, should he for some reason fail and you receive this in the morning, hurry. Please."

St. Hummel ftw

Will banged his fist on the Hummel's door. It had taken him a long time to find their new house, and he had a sinking feeling that he was late.

"Mr. Schue?" Finn opened the door and stared at him blearily. "Dude, it's like 3am, and I'm totally going to do that Spanish essay…"

"This isn't about the essay Finn. Go wake up Burt." Finn shrugged and lumbered upstairs. Will awkwardly stood in the hallway, glancing over the photographs on the wall.

The Hudmel wedding. Finn dressed as a zombie, looking triumphant as he held up a trophy. Kurt, looking smug as he modeled a snugly fitted sweater. Kurt and Burt in front of Hummel's Auto Shop, this time both greasy and holding tools.

"Schuester? What's wrong?" Burt was in his sweatpants and a t shirt, and Carol was still drawing a bathrobe around herself. Both seemed bewildered. Will gulped.

"Kurt's in the hospital." There was dead silence. "Jesse St. James called me…he said you weren't answering your phone." Will braced himself for the twin explosions.

"The hospita1?"

"Jesse St. James?" Carol, the only one who seemed to be rational, had lunged for the phone and was dialing voicemail.

"Kurt can't be in the hospital! He's not even in Lima, he decided to just stick around at Dalton for the weekend!" Will shrugged helplessly.

"I don't know…"

"How did Jesse get your number? And what's he doing with Kurt!"

"Finn, I don't know. He just called me, and I couldn't ignore the fact that Kurt is hurt because we carry a grudge against him." Will said wearily. Finn had began to pace, as Burt plunged into a closet.

"He's in St. Jude's Burt, it's the main hospital in Dalton Township." Carol said, her face pale. "Jesse said that he wasn't dangerously hurt, but…" Carol could sense that something bad had happened.

"Here." Burt threw her a coat. "I'm driving over." He tugged on a large overcoat and jangled his car keys.

"Finn honey, you stay here."

"No!" Carol shot Will a pleading look. Will sighed.

"I'll stay here with Finn. Could you call us when you get any word on Kurt's condition?" Finn looked slightly mollified by the promise of his favorite teacher staying around. Burt nodded as he flew out the door, Carol hurrying along in his wake.

St. Hummel ftw

Kurt didn't want to wake up. He was comfortable in his warm, mind numbing bubble, and something made him not want to get up and remember what had happened…but now that he was thinking, the fog was clearing and he could recall the previous night.

Going into town with Blaine. Blaine going off with his boyfriend, and a grateful smile to Kurt for agreeing to go with him as a cover story, so Wes and David wouldn't mock him or interrupt his date. Walking back to Dalton, wondering morosely what it would be like to actually go on a date.

Those other boys. Being cornered and hit and…Kurt's eyes flew open.

He was in a sterile-smelling room, on crisp white sheets and hooked up to an IV. A hospital then. Good, he had been sure he felt a rib crack when the tall one kicked his side. How did he get here?

Somehow, Kurt doubted that one of his attackers had called an ambulance after he blacked out. He peered around the room. It was a standard hospital room, the type which brought back bad memories of his mother.

Except for the fact that Jesse St. James was sitting in a chair beside the bed. He was leaning back in the chair, with his chin resting on his chest and arms crossed. If one put a desk in front of him, he could have been at McKinley. Jesse was even in the same leather jacket he often wore.

Not that Kurt had gotten into the habit of gazing at him in French class and noting what he did.

"Jesse! What, exactly, are you doing in my hospital room?" Jesse woke with a start. He instantly scrutinized Kurt, eyes going right to the bandages wrapped around his chest.

"Are you feeling alright?" Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I feel so wonderful, I checked myself into the hospital just because I missed the smell." Jesse snorted. It had been an idiotic question, more prompted by worry than a proper thought process.

"I beg to differ. I called 911 after finding you trapped in an alley." Kurt quickly pushed away the memories threatening to surface. "Of course, your parents have been called."

"My thanks. I suppose that a request to know why you were in Dalton would not be out of line?" Jesse raised his eyebrows.

"You're certainly nosy. I storm in as a night in shining armor, and instead I'm greeted with instant suspicion." Kurt raised one eyebrow back at him.

"I'd like a guarantee that I won't end up in a parking lot, my clothing egg stained." Jesse's cheeks flushed. Only a little bit because Jesse St. James didn't blush, ever.

"I was just passing through, looking for some action. And despite the belief New Directions has about my being the devil incarnate, I wasn't about to walk away from a boy who was trapped in an alley." Kurt avoided his eyes. Jesse sighed, wishing he hadn't brought up that particular topic. "And what are you doing two hours from Lima?"

"I go to Dalton." Jesse really, really, wanted to ask why. Admittedly he knew almost nothing about Kurt, but he was proving to be interesting to speak with. But the look on Kurt's face said that the topic was not going to be one he should broach.

"Fair enough. But seriously." Jesse leaned forward, his brown eyes turning intense. "Next time you decided to wander around in a homophobic town at night, consider bringing a friend. Or at least a fucking phone." Kurt glared at him.

"I was going to be with a friend but he ditched. Coming from Lima, I do have some survival instincts!" Kurt scowled. Then the full extent of what Jesse had said registered.

"They stole my phone?"

Jesse chuckled. He couldn't help it. "You get assaulted by a group of homophobic bastards, and the thing which pisses you off the most is losing your phone?"

"I had a wealth of blackmail on that phone. I had over a hundred contacts. It has served me faithfully and without stop, toiling on through tiny pockets and rainy days…" Kurt continued his lament for his phone as Jesse laughed. He hadn't laughed so hard in months.

And all in a hospital. How twisted life was.

St. Hummel ftw

They had moved on from stolen phones to Wicked vs. Avenue Q when Burt burst into the room, frantically looking around and immediately enveloping Kurt in a hug. Jesse rose and stepped back, as a woman he assumed was Mrs. Hudmel joined in the embrace.

"Dad, dad, I'm fine. Just a little banged up." Burt drew back a bit and examined his son, the panic in his eyes giving way to worry. Carol perched herself on Jesse's chair and held Kurt's hand.

"Oh dear…"

"We're going to find those bastards." Burt muttered. "I'll sue. I swear to god, I'll land those boys in jail for so long they're going to wish they'd never even thought of touching you."

"Dad." Kurt's voice was a bit strained. Jesse found himself feeling unnaturally worried. "We can't afford to sue. And it was dark, I never even saw their faces." Burt whirled on Jesse.

"You! You're that Jesse kid, what were you doing with my son?" Jesse restrained the sarcastic comment. Burt just wanted someone to be furious with.

"I heard him call out and drove off his aggressors, then called an ambulance. Since then I have been attempting to contact you, until exhaustion and jetlag caught up with me and I fell asleep." Kurt stared at him over his dad's head, trying to convey some message. "I'm afraid that I didn't see the boys faces either."

Kurt relaxed and mouthed "thank you" at him.

"Oh. Thank you." Burt sighed. "If there's anything at all I can do to repay you, just call the house. You've done more for us than you can possibly imagine."

Looking at Carol's hand over Kurt's and the expression on Burt's face, Jesse got a fair idea. A bit of bitterness curled around his mouth as he thought of the empty house waiting for him.

"It was what any good person would do. I'll be going." Jesse nodded to Kurt and escaped the building. He'd done his good deed for the year, no need to stick around inside that somewhat terrifying bubble of familial caring.

A/N: Well? I haven't posted anything in the glee fandom for a long, long, time, so reviews would be much appreciated! I'd rather not have any flames since I'm currently in Florida, but at least I have an ocean right next to me to douse them in.

Also, posting this now because it was written on that drive to Florida while Kurt was at Dalton, and I was going to wait until I had a second chapter written so I knew I'd be able to post another one fairly quickly, but now that Kurt's back at McKinley I thought I should post before all of Dalton became a vague memory.