CHAPTER 2

That damn phone was ringing again. It was the third time in a row and Burt swore under his breath, slipping from under the warm covers to go to Kurt’s room and give whomever was calling a piece of his mind. It was three in the morning, what were they thinking? Did Kurt really answer the phone at this hour? He’d have to seriously talk to his son as soon as he’s back from Columbus. This damn thing was like a limb extension to this boy. He already called from Finn’s phone, panicked, mere hours after they got to Carole’s sister’s, to ask if it was in his room, because he couldn’t find it and wasn’t sure if he lost it or simply didn’t take it in all the chaos of last-minute packing. The phone turned out to be there, on Kurt’s bed, and now was about to be switched off for the week, just as soon as Burt dealt with this damn night caller.

He stumbled in the darkness of the room, led only by the faint light of the display. It said Blaine :) and Burt grumbled under his breath. This damn kid. He was nice enough, that was true, and from the way Kurt was constantly talking about him Burt knew that their friendship was making his son happy, but lately he had his objections. First there was this day before Valentine’s when Kurt cried all evening in his room. Then he found Blaine in Kurt’s bed after that party. The latest drama was just the day before yesterday, when Kurt came from their coffee date fuming and announced he’d be going with Finn to Columbus that evening after all, because there’s simply nothing to do in Lima during mid-winter break. Considering his earlier plans included mostly hanging out with Blaine, they must have fought. Was the boy calling at this hour to apologize or something? Oh, Burt would tell him a thing or two…

Except he didn’t even get a chance to say anything before he heard sobbing from the other end of the line, and then ragged, shaky voice.

“Kurt? Thank god. I… I know you’re mad at me but could you… I need you, please. Could you pick me up? Could you just take me from this place? Please, I don’t know what to do, please…” Fresh wave of heart wrenching sobs erupted from the speaker and Burt’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest in a way that had nothing to do with his recent health problems. Something happened to this kid, something bad.

“Blaine, it’s Kurt’s dad. He’s not here, he went away for a week and forgot his phone. What happened? Are you okay? Do you need help?”

“Mr Hummel? I… I just… I’m on the college campus and I don’t have a car and… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…”

�“What are you doing on campus at this hour?”

“I…”

“Never mind, I’ll come get you, just go to the gates and stay put.” He was already on his way to the bedroom to grab his clothes. What happened? What was Blaine doing there in the middle of the night, and why was he so distraught? No matter, he would ask later, now he had to go – he couldn’t leave a teenager in need on his own like that. He knew Kurt wouldn’t either, no matter how bad they fought.

Carole was awake, standing anxiously in the doorway to their bedroom. Burt hugged her briefly.

“I’ll just go out for a while. It was Blaine – I don’t know what happened, but it sounds like he’s in trouble. He needs someone to give him a ride home.”

Burt saw her switch into Mum Mode immediately. He knew she had a soft spot for Kurt’s friend. “Is he alright?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t sound alright to me.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, there’s no use for both of us to be tired in the morning. Go back to bed.”

“Okay. I love you. Be careful.”

“I will. I love you too.”

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Burt saw the slight figure as soon as he pulled over to the campus gates. Blaine was hunched against a nearby wall, arms hugging his midsection. In the glare of the headlights he looked completely wretched. A huge bruise was beginning to form on his left cheek and there was dried blood covering his lower lip and chin. His eyes were hollow, unseeing. It was not the same confident, collected teenager he’d seen with Kurt.

Burt got out of the car and approached him.

“Blaine?” The boy startled as if expecting a blow. Something was very wrong here. “Son, what happened? Who did this to you?” Brown eyes looked at him a bit more consciously now.

“Oh… I just… I was in a fight.” Well, clearly. Yet it wasn’t the whole truth, Burt could tell. When you live with two teenage boys, you learn to recognize such things. Suspicions began to form in his head.

“Was it some sort of homophobic attack?”

“What? No, nothing like that. Just… personal stuff.”

“Personal, you say. Are you hurt? Do you need to go to a hospital?”

“No! No hospitals, please, I’m fine, I just want to go home.” Burt didn’t like the look of panic in Blaine’s eyes, but he had no reason to argue the case. Yet.

“Okay, let’s go then.”

Blaine made an unsteady step towards the car and stumbled over his own feet. Burt reached out instinctively to stabilize him, his hand landing on the boy’s shoulder, and two things happened at once. Blaine screamed in pain and at the same time flinched from the touch so violently that he landed on the ground with a thud. He was sitting there, whimpering and hugging his left arm to his chest, his face contorted in a grimace of such dread that Burt ached all over. What happened to this kid? One thing was certain – he needed medical attention. There was something wrong with his arm. Hell, there was something wrong with more than that.

He crouched by the boy, careful not to make any sudden movements. It felt like approaching a small, scared animal.

“Blaine? I’m sorry, I was just trying to catch you. I won’t hurt you, I promise. But you need a doctor, this arm must be killing you.” He kept his voice calm and quiet.

Blaine was shaking his head no furiously, but pain was evident in his eyes.

“It’s not up for discussion, buddy. You are going to the ER. I can drive you myself or I can call your parents to come and take you, if you prefer.” He’d have to call the parents anyway, it was just a question of when. He could give the kid a bit more time to gather his bearings before he had to explain what he was doing away from home at this hour and what happened to him. He certainly didn’t look like he was ready for confrontation yet.

“They are not home.” Blaine’s whisper was barely audible. Well, that explained a lot.

“Okay, so I’ll just call them and they will meet us at the hospital when they get there.”

“They are in Europe. They won’t be back for another week.”

That complicated things.

“So who are you staying with?”

“Alone.”

Well doesn’t it get better every minute.

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. Here, take my hand. We’ll get you to the car and go to the hospital. I’ll call your parents from there and tell them to come back as soon as they can. Ready?”

After a moment of hesitation Blaine grabbed Burt’s outstretched hand with his uninjured one and stood up, leaning heavily on the older man. He was shaking all over. Being so close, Burt could now smell alcohol on the kid’s breath, and not just beer or wine, hard stuff. He opened the passenger door for him and Blaine got in the car, wincing. Burt helped him fasten the safety belt and that’s when he noticed. Under the hem of his jacket, the boy’s belt buckle was undone, his jeans only half-buttoned. Dread washed over him.

“Blaine…” he began, as gently as he could, even as fury boiled in him at the mere thought of what he was about to imply. “Did someone… force you to do anything you didn’t want?”

The teenager whimpered weakly and curled up as much as he could in the car seat, yet shook his head no. But Burt was not a fool. It all fit.

He felt sick. This was so much worse than he imagined. The thought that some sick bastard would touch this kid against his will… The force of protectiveness he suddenly felt astounded him. His hand itched for the shotgun he kept safely hidden in a gun cabinet at home, unused for years. Oh, if he only had it with him, if only Blaine gave him the name and dorm room of this little shit… He ground his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. No. It was not his job here. He had to help this boy – hurt, terrified, alone… He had to take care of him just the way he would have taken care of Kurt if – god forbid – he was ever in such situation. And that meant being there for him, supporting him in every possible way and if his suspicions were confirmed – and he very much hoped they wouldn’t be – making sure that justice was served by proper authorities.

Slowly, carefully, he laid his hand on Blaine’s good shoulder and squeezed lightly.

“You’re safe now, son. I’ve got you. Whatever happened, we’ll get through this, I promise.”