Pathetic Love (Klaine)

Ch.18

(TW: Just be aware, not to bad but some things still)

At just fifteen years old, Kurt was beat up. Badly. His ribs had been broken, his eye had been bruised, and his stomach was covered in bruises, from being punched and kicked several times. Nobody had found him for a while. And Kurt could tell, by the way blood was coming through his mouth, as he coughed it off. More like choked on it. He felt vulnerable. He couldn't figure out why someone had chosen to be him up- except for the fact that he was gay. And although he didn't have to tell anyone, it seemed that everyone already knew.

It relieved Kurt and worried him. He didn't want to put on any stress for his father, since he was stressed enough about the bills on their house. He also knew that it wasn't such a big deal. Except today Kurt had wished that he had told someone. Then maybe someone would be their right now with him- caring, begging for some help. By the time someone did notice him- Rachel Berry was her name, his eyes had rested, tightly screwed shut. The dull of pain coming through his head, the ache in his stomach and his wrist, where it had been broken.

The sounds of the girl frantically yelling, calling for anybody to help her, until he remembered the noises of loud footsteps rushing towards her.

He was thankful someone had found him. Even if it was an accident. When his eyes finally opened up again, blinking at the bright lights, he was in a room. No doubt a hospital room. His hazed our eyes glanced around the room, quickly in hopes of finding the one person he hoped was there. He tried to smile but it turned into a grimace more, and then his hands were being held, with warm rough hands.

Kurt knee right away it was his fathers. "Doctor! Doctor! He's waking up!" He could swore he heard his fathers voice crack just a touch, until a hand was stroking his cheek, bruised no doubt- and the feeling of water droplets landed on his arm.

He heard footsteps and then a voice was speaking to him. "Kurt? How are you feeling today?"

Kurt squeezed his fathers hand before his eyes opened up squinting at the light. Then he turned to his father, who's eyes were filled to the brim with tears. Then he was coughing and tears were coming down his face as he attempted to catch his own breath.

"Slow down.. Kurt. Here drink some water." Then a straw was being pressed to his lips which he happily almost greedily drank from.

His voice came out raspy, more than Kurt had expected. "T-thanks."

"How are you feeling today?" The doctor asked, pushing in some type of liquid into his IV drip, and Kurt prayed it was to help him feel less pain.

"Pain. Hurts." He moaned out.

The doctor nodded with a sympathetic smile. "I know. Those medications should kick in soon." Kurt nodded slightly. "Now you need to take it easy Kurt, okay? You've got a broken wrist, some broken ribs- lots of bruising and swelling. We've controlled the bleeding in your stomach, but we'd like to keep you in observation for a couple more days."

Kurt nodded. He understood it. He didn't feel like going home yet.

Burt was the one to speak first. "Kurt. Son, some police officers want to talk to you, if your up for it?"

Kurt wanted to say no. But he knew he couldn't because otherwise as time went by he would forget his face. The boy's face. He nodded his head. "Send them in."

Burt nodded, opening the door, two police officers walked in. Dressed in their uniforms. One women. One man. They both seemed kind which Kurt was grateful for.