Attempting to make himself as insignificant and distant as possible, he shrunk down with his shoulder hunched and body, as close to a ball as he could. Lucky for him, the two were chatting idly to one another and didn’t seem to be addressing Blaine at all. For now, he retreated into his own head, unable to process the new situation further.

Kurt and his father were talking about the football game Kurt had coming up. He was kicker, and surprisingly he was really good at it. Not that Kurt actually cared too much for the sport, but his dad was into it and they had gotten closer because of his decision to join. Also, playing the brutal American past time was just another way for Kurt to break those stereotypes placed upon him for being gay. Of course, he had to give up his fashion, and wearing those overalls which were much too big for his figure almost gave him a heart attack. But it was a price he had to pay to not get bullied, to earn his dad’s attention, and to break those stupid stereotypes. Oh, don’t get Kurt wrong, he was out and definitely proud of it. Everyone at school knew. But…

He looked over at Blaine and wondered what his story was as his dad was forbidden to give him too many details. However, his dad did inform him that Blaine was a mute and they should not to expect him to talk, so Kurt refrained from asking him questions. For the most part the children they took care of were much younger; Blaine was the first teenager that they ever had. It was a joint decision for his dad and him to start foster caring after his mother died. Kurt’s mom was so very kind. Together as a family they used to go to hospitals and entertain sick kids. She created crafts with them, hugged them, sang to them. After she passed away, Kurt and his dad could no longer visit the hospitals. It brought on too much pain. Thinking of other ways to give back and help children, they concluded that foster care was a good option.

Blaine was their fifth foster child. The four previous children all were able to go back to live with relatives. It brought Kurt such joy when they reunited with their biological family. The smiles on their faces. Most of the time when the children first arrived they threw tantrums, yelled at Kurt and his father, threw things, and were generally unruly. Kurt sympathized; if he was taken away from his dad he would probably do the same thing. Only one was shy, but he did speak every once in a while. Nothing like how Blaine was acting. Kurt wondered exactly how much torture Blaine had gone through before coming here.

Watching him, he looked like a frightened animal. Kurt suspected that he could be very handsome if Kurt actually saw his eyes every once in a while and if he wasn’t so ungodly skinny. Maybe some different clothes would look better on him too, as his had stains in multiple places, the fabric was torn on the sleeves and knees, and the edges were ratty. Possibly skinny jeans with a nice button up red shirt would work well for him. Shaking his head free of fashion, Kurt chided himself and forced his thoughts onto better topics, like his upcoming game. When he was finished with dinner, Kurt was about to take everyone’s dishes from the table, as it was his turn to clean up. But when he looked down about to grab his dishes, he saw that Blaine already beat him to it. Confused, Kurt looked to his dad for support.

“Hey, Blaine?” Blaine continued on with the dishes as if he didn’t hear anything. Which, Kurt noted, was entirely possible since the boy seemed to be in his own little world the whole night. “Blaine,” his dad called again and still no reaction, “it’s Kurt’s turn to clean up tonight. Yours won’t come until the day after tomorrow. Come into the living room. Relax. It’s your first night here.”

Blaine paused for a moment, winced, and continued scrubbing a little more hurriedly, like he was terrified. Kurt looked to his dad and shrugged. Burt sighed deciding not to push the teen any further and let him continue washing the dishes. “Okay, well, they just need to be rinsed off and put into the dishwasher. Join us in the living room when you’re done. Saturday nights are movie nights.”

Blaine was confused. Besides the one family that he lived with, all of them made him do chores. Frequently menial labor until he collapsed. He would have even cooked for the Hummels, but after coming downstairs from being in his room after the tour he found that dinner was already made. They probably didn’t trust him to cook, as though he was too stupid to do such a thing and going to give them all food poisoning. He always did chores without being instructed to because many times if he waited to be told he’d get beaten for not taking the initiative. Were they trying to trick him into not doing dishes so they could whip him with a belt? Should he stop? Burt seemed to want him to stop, but why? What if it was a trick? His stomach twisted in knots. He did not know what to do.

They couldn’t beat him for choosing to do the dishes could they? But he would be disobeying an order and beatings happened when he didn’t listen. His heart pounded inside his chest, hands sweating. He was a cornered animal and no matter where he went or what he chose something bad was going to happen. Pausing he thought about what he should do, and after remembering the feel of the whip against his bare back at making the wrong choice Blaine continued to scrub. He hoped against hope that he had made the right decision. But he reminded himself the reality of his situation: no matter what, nothing good was going to come out of it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw them leave the kitchen and Blaine was finally alone with the running water, the dishes, and his songs.

Back in the living room Kurt and his dad were waiting for Blaine to finish, but the clock reached ten minutes past when they left Blaine in the kitchen so Kurt asked, “Should I go get him or…?”

“I think for now, we should let him be, kiddo. He’s gone through a lot and by checking on him we may stress him out more. We’ll just wait.” Burt began flipping through the channels for a show to watch while they waited for Blaine to return. Pausing on Bravo he asked Kurt, “What about Project Runway?”

Kurt glared at his dad. “No, that show is dumb. Put on golf, or Deadliest Catch, or something.”

Burt sighed and changed it to the golf channel. “You used to love that stuff.”

“Yeah until I realized it was sadder than watching the Colts lose to Raiders.”

Forty minutes of golf later, Blaine very quietly walked into the living room and sat on the floor in the corner of the room. Kurt raised an eyebrow at his dad silently asking him if he could tell Blaine that it was okay to sit on the couch with him, but his dad shook his head so Kurt kept his mouth shut.

When he walked into the living room, forgetting why exactly they wanted him in there, Blaine quickly looked around and saw that Kurt was sitting on the only couch and Burt in the chair. Immediately he turned his eyes back to the floor with his head down. He chose to sit on the floor as he was probably going to get kicked off the couch when Kurt had enough of Blaine’s rotten presence. He hugged his knees to his chest and waited.

Burt was walking towards Blaine and Blaine tightened his ball as Burt was wearing a belt. A belt that could easily be taken off to hit him right there. It wouldn’t matter if it was in front of Kurt; Kurt would probably join in after Burt got tired. He knew he should have stopped doing the dishes, but then what real choice did he have? Either way bad things were going to happen. Bad things always happened to Blaine. He recited his favorite tune, letting himself drift away to a world full of music and closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable. After a few moments he heard the footsteps moving away. Slowly he peeked out from his ball and saw that Burt was looking through the movies.

“What do you two think, Monty Python and the Holy Grail or WALL. E?” Kurt looked to Blaine to see if the teen had any preference, but the boy was once again staring at the ground, seemingly oblivious that he was being asked a question. The first night upon receiving a new foster child, they always put in a funny movie to help them relax. Anything else might bring up bad memories, and that was the last thing they wanted. The children needed to know that their house was a safe haven. Something which Kurt hoped Blaine would learn soon or at least open up a little bit to them. Patience and love- they had everything to offer, if Blaine would let himself have it. But the boy was too terrified.

“I haven’t seen Monty Python in forever. Can we watch that?” asked Kurt.

“Sounds good to me. What do you think, Blaine?”

Blaine didn’t respond because he knew they would mock him. He wanted to keep from getting insulted for as long as he could. Even if he knew he deserved the insults. Sometimes the words were even comforting, knowing no one expected much out of him and being reminded of the truth. It was one of the few constants in his life. The movie began and Blaine faded in and out, hardly paying attention to what was going on. Mostly he stayed in his safe place. Time passed without him realizing and soon it was time to go to bed. He got up, not quite sure what they wanted from him, stood there in his normal posture with his head facing the ground.

“Goodnight, Blaine. Goodnight, Dad,” Kurt said going downstairs to his room.

“Night, kiddo!” Burt said to his retreating son’s figure. “Get a good night’s sleep tonight, Blaine. Tomorrow we’re going shopping to get you some new clothes. You’ll look all fancy for school on Monday.”

Blaine turned off the lights and got into bed. He couldn’t sleep, though. Too many thoughts and fears swirled around in his head. Instead of dealing with it, Blaine, satisfied that he could now play his piano, began moving his hands to the beat. No one could take this away. Finally the melody drifted him to a fitful sleep in the early morning.

He woke up every hour almost exactly on the half hour that night. He knew because he glanced at the clock every single time. At about five he decided that enough was enough and went downstairs to make breakfast for everyone. They may think he would give them food poisoning, but he supposed that it was better to make food that they might not eat than get yelled at for not doing it. So he began to make French toast with eggs on the side.

Kurt heard commotion in the kitchen and went to investigate what all the clattering was about. His dad usually wasn’t up this early. He was very much startled to see Blaine moving about, the smell of food wafting through the room. “Blaine. You don’t have to do that. Dad makes breakfast on Sundays, we’ll trade on Saturdays or we can do it together, and the rest of the week it’s a grab bag. I make protein shakes so I can pull an Arnold in the gym. That’s what Coach wants.” Kurt contemplated Blaine, who seemed to be ignoring him. Didn’t they show him the schedule during the tour? Maybe he was lied to about schedules, or maybe everything was too new and thrusting more information at him made him go into information overload and therefore he wasn’t processing when they showed him the schedule. Whatever the reason was, Blaine obviously was not going to follow it. Not knowing what to do, Kurt waited for his breakfast to be made and his dad to come downstairs.

A plate was prepared and Blaine handed it to Kurt, hands outstretched eyes averted. Kurt took it, telling Blaine ‘Thank you,’ and dug in. “Eating this just like running a Hail Mary with five seconds left in the game. You are an excellent cook.” He watched the boy to see if the compliment sunk it. No, there was no response. His words bounced off of him like a rubber ball hitting cement. Well, the food was really good…he wasn’t lying.

After eating, Kurt went into the living room to watch some football and expected Blaine to join him. Except ten minutes later Blaine was still in the kitchen. Wondering what he could be up to now, Kurt quietly snuck back into the kitchen and saw Blaine mopping the floor. Moments later his dad came downstairs to see the same scene. His dad eyed the plate of food sitting alone on the counter, took it for himself, and started eating in the living room. Curious as to what his dad had to say about Blaine, Kurt followed.

“Dad, how much has Blaine gone through?” asked Kurt.

“As much as I wish I could tell you, kiddo, you know I can’t. He has been through a heck of a lot and we are going to have a change in plans. I think it will be best if this month we leave him alone to do what he feels he needs to in order to be comfortable here. We won’t interrupt him. I think he just needs time on his own. We’ll respect his space. After the month we’ll reintroduce the schedule posted in the hallway.” His dad glanced to the kitchen. “I don’t even think going shopping with him to get those new clothes today is a good idea.”

“What about school tomorrow?” asked Kurt.

“I don’t know, son. He needs to go to school. He needs to have some sort of set routine to get started with. School is something that is familiar to him, but I just don’t know how much good school will do him in the state he is in. I guess we could try it.” His dad sighed heavily. The stress of a new child in their care always took its toll the first couple of days. But Kurt preferred the screaming kids to this. At least Kurt knew they felt something. That they weren’t dead to the world. Blaine was so bottled up inside himself that Kurt wondered if they would ever be let in. “Watch out for him tomorrow.”

“Always,” said Kurt, hugging his dad. He always looked after his foster family, and he would always be there for Blaine as well.