Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of these characters… if I did, Karofsky wouldn't exist anymore, Jesse wouldn't have been such an asshole (albeit one I believe legitimately fell for Rachel), and there would be a LOT more Blaine.

A/n: I know, I know… I should NOT be starting another fic. But this idea just came to me, and I have a long weekend. "Broken" is definitely going to keep going; I was actually writing this prologue simultaneously with chapter 19. My story about Sam, however, I'm not so sure about – the idea's just sort of died for that one, and I'm not sure where I want to take it or if I even want to deal with that idea anymore. I may just stop writing it and come back later when I get some more ideas.

Waking up on the ground was never a good sign. Usually it just meant that he had been sleepwalking again or occasionally that he'd fallen out of the bed, although the latter was usually preceded by a nightmare that Blaine had no desire to remember.

But this was different. This wasn't the carpet of his bedroom at home, nor was it the marble or hardwood floors of Dalton. This was cold and rough, and Blaine felt the material scraping off bits of skin as he moved his hand in an attempt to pick himself up off the ground. As soon as his weight shifted onto his left arm, Blaine felt pain shooting through the arm and across his chest. He thought he cried out, but he wasn't completely sure because he didn't hear it. He didn't actually hear anything, and if it hadn't been for the fact that Blaine was quickly becoming aware of how much of his body actually hurt, he might have been concerned over that fact.

Blaine wasn't sure how long it was before he actually opened his eyes; at times it felt as though he was drifting in and out of consciousness as he tried not to shiver in the cold for fear that it would send pain shooting through his body again.

It was light out, and Blaine finally saw that he was lying on a stretch of asphalt. His vision was off; Blaine didn't have the best vision, but normally he could at least see enough to know where he was. All he could see was an expanse of more asphalt, with the grass on the far side just a brownish green smudge occasionally broken by what he could only assume were bushes and the occasional tree.

Blaine felt his eyes getting heavy, exhaustion setting in from out of nowhere despite the fact that he had just woken up. As he drifted off again, Blaine could have sworn he felt a hand pushing the hair out of his face and finger pressing into the soft side of his neck to check for a pulse.