“I called him a traitor.”
The twelve teenagers were sitting silently in the empty waiting room of Lima General ER, huddled together, just trying to remember to breathe. At Puck’s words they jumped, turning to the other teen in confusion.
“I called him a traitor. What if I never get to apologize?”
“He’s not dying, Puck!” Kurt cried, voice strangled as fresh tears sprung into his eyes. Rachel quickly rubbed Kurt’s arms comfortingly, trying to calm him down, but it didn’t work. He let out a choking sound, burying his head in his hands. “It was meant for me.” He sobbed, “It was supposed to hit me and now Blaine-” Kurt cut himself off. With shaking hands and a shaking voice he whispered, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget the sound of him screaming.”
At his words everyone froze, because Kurt was right. They’d never be able to forget this night. The way Blaine’s agonized screams echoed through the garage. The way Blaine curled up on himself, digging his hands into his eyes. The way he threw up, trying to spit out what little of the slushie that had gone into his mouth. The way he sobbed, begging Kurt for some kind or relief.
No. Tonight one of their own had been hurt, had been tortured.
They were never going to forget tonight.