It didn't take long for word of the commotion on the beach to his the main resort. Mike had been hanging out at work before he was due to start his shift, trying to help out a new recruit to the dance line-up who kept wanting to trip over her own feet every time she had to hit the pole. Mike was putting in a couple of extra hours training with her, but even over the music, he could hear the screaming coming from the beach. He told the girl to keep practising and then ran out into the main stretch of the resort near the pool to see what was going on.
It didn't take long for him to hear what was being shouted. As soon as he heard the screams of Kurt's name, Mike took off at top speed, his dancers agility helping him get down to the beach in less than a minute. If something had happened to Kurt or - God forbid - Kurt did something to himself after that breakdown the night before, no one would forgive themselves. But as soon as Mike reached the beach, he could see in the distance that Puck was crouched over someone. Was it Kurt? Was Kurt hurt? He bolted up the beach, and as soon as he was close enough, he knew what it was.
Blaine. Blaine had finally come, but this wasn't good at all. Blaine was the one screaming hysterically and Mike recognised his appearance. The wedding suit, all the blood. Blaine had just been plucked from Kurt's death and dumped here horrifically on the beach. "Fuck," Mike cursed through a gasp as soon as he got to Puck's side. He knew Puck would be freaking the fuck out, and probably trying his best not to, but there was no way he would be coping with this. "Puck, dude, we need to get him inside. We'll get him inside to clean him up, but we need to get him off the beach. Okay? Listen to me, dude. You can't reason with him, he just watched Kurt die. There's no point even trying," Mike coaxed, gripping Puck's shoulder to try and help him stay calm.
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It didn't take long for him to hear what was being shouted. As soon as he heard the screams of Kurt's name, Mike took off at top speed, his dancers agility helping him get down to the beach in less than a minute. If something had happened to Kurt or - God forbid - Kurt did something to himself after that breakdown the night before, no one would forgive themselves. But as soon as Mike reached the beach, he could see in the distance that Puck was crouched over someone. Was it Kurt? Was Kurt hurt? He bolted up the beach, and as soon as he was close enough, he knew what it was.
Blaine. Blaine had finally come, but this wasn't good at all. Blaine was the one screaming hysterically and Mike recognised his appearance. The wedding suit, all the blood. Blaine had just been plucked from Kurt's death and dumped here horrifically on the beach. "Fuck," Mike cursed through a gasp as soon as he got to Puck's side. He knew Puck would be freaking the fuck out, and probably trying his best not to, but there was no way he would be coping with this. "Puck, dude, we need to get him inside. We'll get him inside to clean him up, but we need to get him off the beach. Okay? Listen to me, dude. You can't reason with him, he just watched Kurt die. There's no point even trying," Mike coaxed, gripping Puck's shoulder to try and help him stay calm.