Title: To Feel Again

Warnings: MAJOR TRIGGERS. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE EVER SELF-HARMED YOURSELF AND COULD BE TRIGGERED INTO DOING SO AGAIN. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Rating: M for major topic.

Summary: Kurt Hummel was numb. He could feel no longer. He has had to resolve to self-harm as a outlet. Lucky for Kurt, he is a great actor and can pull it off without anyone knowing. One day, when Kurt visits the Lima Bean, he meets a rather kind stranger who quickly becomes aware of his secret. Kurt doesn't want to go back, but does. Blaine makes Kurt feel things, things that he does not want to feel. Can Blaine help Kurt out of the lowest point of his life? Can he show Kurt how to feel again?

Kurt was feeling it again. He felt the tingle in his arms; he felt his heart race, his blood boil, and the sweat on his forehead. He stared at the scissors on his desk, they were taunting him, mocking him. He didn't want to do this, it didn't have to resolve to this, he could go get help right now. He could in fact, call Mercedes, call his step-brother, or maybe even his dad. But, Kurt's pride was too big for that.

He didn't want the help, he didn't want the pity. Kurt saw the way people looked at him when he got shoved into the lockers, he saw the looks of the people who felt sorry for him, and he loathed it. He could handle it because it was never going to get that far, it couldn't get that far.

Oh, how wrong Kurt was.

Kurt was just so tired of feeling; his emotions always got the best of him. He would cry for hours on end, he would sing sad songs, and he even stopped organizing his closet by designer. He needed another outlet, anything.

So, this was his new way of letting things out.

He grabbed the scissors on his desk and played around with them in his hand. He let his finger glide over the blade; it really didn't feel all that sharp, honestly. It only cuts paper, after all, and paper is in fact, easy to tear. Kurt bit his lip and put the blade softly against his wrist, gliding against his skin.

Nothing.

Well, maybe a little more pressure out to do the trick. He let the blade glide over once more.

No?

Fine.

Kurt added ever more pressure against his write and quickly slashed the blade through his skin.

Bingo.

Red started pouring from Kurt's wrist again. And oh my gosh, he could feel again. It shouldn't feel like this, intentionally harming yourself, but he felt such a rush of adrenaline surge through his body. He felt the pulse in his ears, his hear hammering against his chest, he could feel it all.

Kurt let a small smile creep up in his lips. It was fall after all, when all the best designer long sleeves come out, this was going to be something easy to hide, and something he could keep all to himself without those stares.

Automatically, he lifted up the hand with the scissors in it and glided the blade just right below the first red line he made.

Warmth.

The next time Kurt did it, it was about a week later when he was having a really bad day at school.

Throughout the whole week, Kurt always glanced at his wrist and felt a thrill go up his spine, every time he looked at the marks. He didn't know why it made him feel that way, but he was quite fond of it.

That day in particular was horrible because Mercedes wasn't there, when she was there, school was at least a little bit tolerable. But, he was kind of glad she wasn't there, all week she had been giving Kurt these weird looks and he didn't like it. It made him feel exposed, like she knew his secret. But, that was impossible, he had kept his marks well hidden.

"Move it, fag."

Crash.

Kurt had been shoved into the lockers, yet again. He knew it was starting to leave marks on his back, he had at least five bruises painted perfectly on his shoulders going down. Kurt didn't like looking at them, it made him feel weak.

With Mercedes not being there, Kurt knew it was best to keep his mouth shut, so he picked himself up and kept on walking.

Glee club was starting to become a little boring, too. All Mr. Shue wanted to do was talk about songs from the '80s. So, Kurt just sat there and waited for the period to end, like always. Not one of the kids in glee even acknowledged Kurt was even in the class. He just took his seat at the start at every class, in the back and sat there silently.

Kurt was alone, he knew. He was waiting for somebody, anybody to notice. To notice how much he wanted them to make him open up, to break down his walls, to make him feel loved. He would never outwardly tell them he was feeling like this, he couldn't. He wouldn't even know where to begin. They were all aware that the football team gave him a hard time, but it wasn't anything knew. If he was going to be gay, his life was going to be hard.

He felt the blade glide through his wrist and he felt himself sigh in relief. He needed this, he needed the release that it gave him. Kurt watched as he saw the blood come up from his skin, and he almost felt it as beautiful. He loved watching it. He didn't understand why he was so captivated by it, but he couldn't stop staring.

Enchantment.

Kurt was a fabulous liar. He could spill lies like he was doing it since birth. And people ate them up. They just believed him.

What fools they were.

"Kurt, you've been sort of… Distant from everybody, want to tell me what's going on?" Mr. Shue asked.

Kurt gave him a dazzling smile, "No, I'm alright. I just haven't been able to sleep. Finn likes to stay up late and blast his music. So, it just takes me awhile longer to fall asleep. But, I'm fine, Mr. Shue."

Mr. Shue smiled at him, "Alright Kurt, if you say so. Have a good rest of the day."

Kurt offered him one last believable smile and walked out the door. Of course he believe him, Kurt was a fantastic liar. Its become second nature to Kurt now, to say, I'm fine, when anybody asks him if he's okay. And the funny part is, it is actually believable. What no one knew was how not fine he was, how broken and torn he was inside. No one was challenging him though, not ever pushing it. He needed someone like that. He needed to know someone cared for him.

When Kurt came home that night, he pulled up his sleeve and made another mark on his pale skin.

And like always, Kurt felt again.

He could breathe out a sigh of relief.

Yes, while it was only a partial lie that he told Mr. Shue, he was not getting enough sleep, and yes, Finn did blast his music, but they had no relation to each other. That was what Kurt was good at, not fully lying, just stretching the truth. He was quite good at it.

Kurt tilted his head as he examined his wrist, he should stop cutting so close to his hands, he could easily be discovered.

Another thrill went down his spine.

Exposed.

"The damn coffee maker broke again." Burt grumbled at he snatched up his keys and walked out the door.

Kurt glanced over at the coffee maker, sure enough, it looked broken. Kurt and his father were similar in that way at least, if they don't get their morning coffee, they couldn't function properly throughout the day. He heaved a sigh and grabbed his keys off of the table.

He had school today, but he didn't feel like going. One day wouldn't kill him at all, he had top grades in all of his classes. He wasn't challenged in the least at McKinely.

Kurt slipped into his car and started driving.

And he drove, and he drove, and he drove.

There was a coffee shop about five blocks from his house, but he wanted to go somewhere where no one would recognize him. He wanted to be somewhere new.

So, that is how he ended up here, at the Lima Bean. It was a small coffee shop in Westerville.

Had he really been driving for two hours?

He shrugged to himself and stepped out of the car. He pulled the shop handle and walked in.

It wasn't big, he could see the appeal in it, though. All in all, it just looked like a regular coffee shop. There was a counter where you paid, and chairs and seats to drink your coffee.

"Non-fat mocha."

"Name?"

"Kurt."

"$3.50."

He slid over his credit card to the woman behind the counter.

"Thank you. Your coffee will be ready in a few minutes."

The woman slid over back his card with a receipt.

"Thanks."

Kurt stood there and waited for a minute or two and grabbed his coffee when his name was called.

He wasn't in a rush to get back to Lima, so he picked a table, right next to a window and sat down.

Kurt didn't do a lot of thinking these days, nor a lot of feeling. He was just sort of… There. He didn't feel any life to him anymore, only when the blade touched his skin, did he truly feel alive. Kurt knew it was bad, knew he should get some help, but he figured he was too far gone now. And he didn't want saving, it was better just to keep quiet, to keep things in. He didn't want to cause trouble to people with his problems. They're his problems, after all.

He was snapped from his hazed state to find a group of teenage boys walk into the coffee shop, all dressed in the same outfit: slacks, blue blazers with red piping and a 'D' incrested on the breast and a blue and red tie. Kurt stared at them curiously for a second, but then broke his gaze to stare back at the window. He didn't know what kind of schools they had here in Westerville, turns out they have private schools for the rich kids.

"Hello?"

Kurt jumped and looked up to see who it was. It was a boy, probably around his age, and he had that rick private school uniform on. His face looked smooth, his eyes were a golden-hazel and his hair looked like it had a lot of gel in it.

Kurt blinked, "Uh, hello."

"I saw you from over there, and well, I've never seen you around before." He said kind of shyly.

Kurt raised an eyebrow, "I'm from Lima."

The boy with the gelled hair titled his head, "Why are you out here in Westerville?"

"Our coffee machine broke."

"What, no coffee shops down there in Lima." The mystery boy smiled.

Kurt almost felt himself smile, almost.

"I decided to be a rebel today and skip school. I drove and kind of just ended up here." He waved his hand.

"Well, I'm Blaine." He let out his hand.

"Kurt." He grabbed Blaine's hand and shook it.

"If you don't mind me asking, what school do you go to?" Kurt asked.

Blaine smiled, "Dalton Academy. I'm here with the Warblers. It's our school's show choir group."

"Ah, I see." Kurt nodded his head.

"Not into show choir?" Blaine said, almost teasingly.

"On the contrary, I'm in one. Although, I probably should just pull myself out. They don't use my talent anyway." Kurt shrugged his shoulders.

"Range?"

"Countertenor."

Blaine's jaw dropped, "You're kidding, right?"

Kurt gave him a look, "Why would I be? Just listen to my talking voice, it's about several octaves higher than yours."

"Wow. I am surprised they don't showcase your voice more. We haven't had a countertenor is years."

"That's what you get when you have a girl who has a voice that is too loud to ignore and wants all the solos to herself."

Blaine nodded, "This may sound weird, but are you okay? You seemed pretty lost when I saw you from over there."

Kurt's body tensed. He noticed. Someone noticed. Panic. That's all he could feel in his body. No one could no. No one. Not even a stranger whom he might never see again. But, he still noticed. Blaine spot him from a distance and noticed he was lost. No one even did that, not even Mercedes.

"Yes, I am fine." Kurt said, the lie easily slipping from his tongue.

Blaine pursed his lips and looked at Kurt, he really did not look all that fine.

"I must be going, nice meeting you, Blaine." Kurt stood up and pushed past Blaine.

He was heading straight for the door, out the door, towards his car. Almost there…

"Kurt, wait!" He heard someone scream after him and a pull on his arm.

Blaine looked down and Kurt's arm and he saw.

Kurt whipped his head around and saw that Blaine saw. And now everything was over. They stood there, frozen in shock. Kurt looked down at his arm, his sleeve was risen, just enough so the marks were noticeable. Blaine's hand was gripping Kurt's wrist tightly, like if were to let go, Kurt would explode.

Agonizing moments in silence dragged on and on. Both boys were breathing heavy, waiting for one to speak, but they didn't dare. What was Kurt to say? He wasn't going to tell his story to this random stranger, no matter how kind he seemed, Kurt wasn't going to say anything.

Kurt then grabbed Blaine's arm and pried it from his wrist. Blaine looked up at him and all he could see were the questions in his eyes.

Why are you doing it? How can you stand it? Does anyone know? Will you tell me? Will you trust me?

Kurt just whispered, "I think you should go, Blaine. More importantly, I need to go."

"You're going to do that to yourself again." It wasn't even a question.

Kurt just stared at Blaine, eyes locked on each other.

"This isn't your battle, Blaine. It's mine to fight, and mine to fight alone."

Before Blaine could respond, Kurt turned on his heal, and ran to his car. He never ran so fast before in his life. But, he wasn't going to answer the questions. He couldn't answer the questions.

He heard Blaine call for him, but Kurt didn't stop. He had his keys already out and he yanked open his door, started the ignition and pulled out. Kurt looked in his rear view mirror and saw Blaine standing there in the middle of the street with a sad look on his face.

When Kurt finally arrived home, the house was still empty. Burt and Carole were still at work while Finn was at school and would not be home until after practice.

He went into the kitchen, pulled his sleeve up quickly and yanked the scissors out of the drawer. He slid the blade through his skin and breathed that same sigh of relief as he saw the red drip from his skin.

Blaine wasn't meant to see, he wasn't supposed to see. And he would never see this boy again in his life. Kurt didn't want to care. He should be used to it by now, not having anyone care for you. But, the way his eyes looked at Kurt when after he saw the marks on his arms, that's the most caring look he has received his months.

Kurt thought of Blaine's face as he cut through his skin again, and again.

After he was done, he cleaned the scissors, put him back where he found them and washed his wrist. He made sure the bleeding had stopped and rolled his sleeve back down.

No one knew. Except for him.

Revealed.

Hello! If you have made it this far, thank you so much!

I do have a lot of the story written. It was intended to be a one-shot but it got way too long for it to be so.

So, if you would be kind as to leave a review, it motivates me to write more!

Thank you so much,

Ally