Not as Strong as You Think

Chapter 6- Scratches

Right as they got home, Kurt retreated to the bedroom. He didn't have the strength to answer Blaine's questions or see the sad look on his face when he confronted Kurt about being broken. It was all too overwhelming. Blaine was overwhelming.

Guilt tore at his heart. He knew that he was making things hard on everybody, and it just killed him. It killed him to see his dad worry so much about him and it killed him to see Blaine turn his entire life around just to accommodate Kurt's needs. He wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth all of their pain.

It must have been hours that Kurt sat on the foot of his bed, studying the buildings outside his window and thinking. It seemed that Kurt had been thinking a lot lately. His brain insisted on being heard 24/7, even when he tried to shut it out.

"Kurt?" Blaine peeked his head into the room, seeing only the back of his boyfriend's head. "Kurt, I made dinner."

Kurt jumped at the sudden sound of another voice, and right as he turned around, Blaine took a sharp intake of breath. "What? What's wrong?"

"Kurt, your arms..." The boy panicked, and glanced down to examine himself. To his surprise, there were red scratch marks running down the inside of his forearms, looking extra colorful against the pale skin. Dots of blood appeared, so Kurt wiped them away with his thumb. He sat back down, embarrassed, looking at the floor.

"I was just-I was just thinking about...you know...stuff. I didn't know I was doing it, I just kind of..." Kurt's words trailed off by the end of his sentence. He turned to look up at Blaine, who's face read the same expression as before.
"I'm sorry."

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Kurt followed him into the bathroom, where Blaine ran a piece of paper towel that was on the counter underneath the cold water of the sink. Kurt sat on the closed toilet lid, as his boyfriend had instructed.

Blaine held out his hand, as a gesture for him to put out his arm. Hesitantly, Kurt raised his arm and put it in Blaine's, the contact making him shiver.

Dabbing the damp towel on Kurt's blotchy skin, all Blaine could think about is how utterly sad he was. He was sad for Kurt, sad for what happened to him, sad that he'd hurt himself, even if he didn't mean to.

•••

They ate in silence, Kurt playing with his spaghetti more than he put it in his mouth. He wasn't hungry. He felt sick, his stomach knotted inside of him. But still, to make Blaine happy, he tried to eat.

After the meal was over, Blaine put the bowls in the sink, deciding he would deal with them in the morning, too tired to do anything at the moment.

"So," Blaine started, as Kurt looked up from his phone. "I'll take the couch until you're...um, comfortable with sharing it."

Kurt shook his head in protest. "No, please, take the bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

"But Kurt, you just got home from the hospital-"

"Exactly. You don't need to do all of this for me. I don't even know why you bother, actually. But I'm not going to let you give me everything you have. Take the bed, it's the only thing you have left."

Blaine was surprised at the sudden outburst, but nodded his head slowly and backed into the bedroom. He quietly shut the door, and slid down it, hugging his knees into his body. And so he cried.