I read a throwaway line once about how there could have been broken glass in the dumpster at McKinley and Kurt could have been Seriously Injured instead of just bruised and humiliated and now I can’t stop imagining that happening for real.
Kurt being thrown in the dumpster, because it’s Tuesday, and landing with more pain than usual. The back of his arms, the outside of his thigh, sharp and wet and pricking with pain even though the, surely ruined designer shirts he’s wearing. Takes a few breaths and stays down for longer, feels the shards of glass move in his skin when he finally manages to pulls himself out. He doesn’t know for sure how bad it is as he makes for the school doors, only that he can feel wet warmth making his, now torn, skinny jeans stick even tighter to his leg, and that he’s going to be late to class.
He’s not thinking about how much pain he’s in as he walks through the hallway, only that he needs to clean up in the girls’ restroom, like always. He’s almost there, and only slightly lightheaded when he starts to register the double takes from people who think, at first, that he just got slushied, only to realize that it’s not Cherry red that he’s covered in, and dripping onto the tile.
This is, for once, something that Figgins can’t ignore, or brush off as boys will be boys. Not with the biohazard in the hallway, not with Mr. Hummel at the hospital.
It’s huge escalation that nobody directly involved in the situation can really emotionally comprehend as one. What do you mean? This happens all the time? Why does it matter that it was worse? Why do you care now?
The Jocks who did it being brought into the Principal’s office, facing aggravated assault charges and saying that they don’t get what the big deal is. Hummel’s never been hurt before, they just toss him in and the trash messes up his stupid girly sweaters, how were they supposed to know this would happen? They saw the blood, but— Hummel’s fine right? You’d tell us if he was ok?
Kurt, at the same time, sitting on a hospital bed for his stitches after they’ve had to cut his jeans off in order to take out the glass. Becoming almost alarmed when his complaints about the bullying are treated seriously for the first time ever. Saying that he’s been taking care of his cuts by himself forever, because usually the trash is all food waste from the cafeteria, but that doesn’t mean he’s never hit the rim of the dumpster when they’ve thrown him, or that nobody’s ever thrown anything sharp away before. He asks the nurse if they have to tell his dad, he doesn’t want him to worry.
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