Blaine finds himself a bit lonely, cooped up in the house with only Bethany to converse with while Kurt and his family are busy moving into their new place. It’s going to be odd, Blaine thinks, because he had become quite accustomed to walking back and forth between their houses. They’re only two blocks away, though, and maybe it’ll be nice to explore the neighborhood a bit more.

Kathy is just as absent as ever. Ever since she left Bethany alone and Blaine shouted at her through the phone, she’s been reluctant to even look her son in the eyes. She sighs when he asks her for money and waves him off whenever he asks what time she plans on being home.

Tonight, however, his mother is unconscious in her bed due to drunken stupidity, but at least she’s in the house.

Blaine is jolted awake in the dead of night.

“Wha – what?” he asks blearily, sleep slurring his words while his eyes attempt to focus on whatever woke him in the dark. “Beth?”

“Blainey?” his sister’s voice calls out softly.

“What’s wrong?” Blaine sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes. The clock on his nightstand reads 3:23 a.m. “Why’re you awake?”

“I – I wet my bed,” Bethany admits miserably, weak sobs choking from her throat. “I’m sorry.”

Blaine frowns into the night. “Did you tell mom?”

“She told me to tell you.”

“Of course she did,” Blaine mumbles to himself, joints in his knees popping loudly as he stands. “What happened, Beth? You haven’t wet the bed since you were five.”

His sister sniffles, reaching for his hand. Blaine takes it, thankful for the protective cover on her bed that he had refused to take off despite all of Bethany’s cries of injustice.

“I had a bad dream,” she whispers.

They wander into Bethany’s room and Blaine’s eyes squint in pain when he flips on the light. “Go wash up and change. I’ll deal with the bed.”

Bethany nods, rubbing her tired eyes as she does as instructed. Blaine sighs heavily, stripping the bed of its soiled linens and tending to the mess. He shouldn’t have to do any of this. He shouldn’t be the one cleaning up after his sister. His fucking mother shouldn’t be drunk off her ass. She should be the one in here. She should be the one to take care of her daughter and ease her anxiety and her fears and whatever caused her to wet the bed in her sleep.

But it doesn’t matter.

Because she won’t.

By the time Bethany returns to Blaine side, clad in a clean pair of underwear and a too big t-shirt that probably belongs to him, Blaine has tossed the sheets into the wash and her bed is ready to be slept in once more.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” she asks.

“Beth-”

“Please?” she begs, looking far younger than her eight years.

It’s the desperation in her voice and the sorrow in her eyes that causes Blaine to give in, leading her back into his room. They both crawl under the covers and Blaine stares up at his darkened ceiling. Bethany hasn’t asked to sleep in his bed in ages.

“What was your bad dream about?” he asks without turning his head.

Bethany curls wordlessly into Blaine’s side, clutching at his arm and pressing her forehead against his shoulder.

“Everyone left me,” she explains softly. “Daddy left me. Mommy left me. And then you left me. At the park. You left me alone. It was real dark and I was yelling for you to come but you didn’t come and it was cold and I was scared.”

Blaine’s chest constricts, heart leaping into his throat. He immediately pulls his sister closer, tucking her little head under his chin as she releases a shuddering, nervous breath.

“I’m sorry,” she says again. “I didn’t mean to wet my bed.”

“It’s okay, Bethbee,” he tells her, kissing the top of her curly head. “But you shouldn’t be scared of me leaving you. That’s not gonna happen.”

“But you’re almost grown up and you’re gonna leave to go to school far away,” she says wearily. “You’ll be gone.”

“That’s a long time away,” Blaine attempts to assure her. “I won’t leave you alone.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” Blaine admits to Kurt a few days later while they both sit on a park bench, retelling the events of that awful night. The summer heat is seeping into the top of Blaine’s head and he really wishes this park was shaded. He watches Bethany play on a swing set. “I feel guilty.”

“Why?” Kurt wonders.

“Because I do want to get out. I do want to go to college far away. I want to get the hell out of this godforsaken state and I want to get away from my mother and her bullshit. I even – fuck.”

“What?” Kurt presses, gazing at Blaine, concern clear in his kind eyes.

Blaine lets his head loll back on the bench, closing his eyes against the sun. “I want to get away from her,” he admits quietly. “Well not – not her, exactly, just-”

“The overwhelming responsibility you have toward her,” Kurt concludes.

“Basically.”

“Sounds natural to me.”

“What?” Blaine asks, lifting his head and peering over at Kurt in shock. “I can’t – who the hell else is going to take care of her if I-”

“Hey, whoa, no,” Kurt says, placing a hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “I meant it’s natural to feel like that. I didn’t mean that’s the obvious road to take. It just doesn’t surprise me that you’d want to get away from all this and, you know, be your own person.”

“Oh,” Blaine replies lamely, visibly deflating. “Yeah, I guess.”

Kurt squeezes Blaine’s shoulder once, offering silent support before he pulls it away. “Have you thought about where you might like to go to college?”

Blaine shrugs. He hangs his head.

“A little bit.”

“Where, then?”

“I don’t know,” Blaine mumbles. “I’d really like to go to a big city. Some place with tons of stuff to do, new people to meet. Like maybe Chicago or like, New York or San Francisco or something.”

“So apply to schools there in the fall,” Kurt suggests. “You never know where you’ll get accepted.”

Rubbing at the line of sweat forming near his hairline, Blaine nods despondently. He’ll apply. Of course he’ll apply. He has great grades. Getting into a school won’t be the problem.

It’s everything else that’ll be the problem.

“I just feel like…it won’t ever be my life,” Blaine says sadly. “Even if I do get out somehow, I’ll always be worried about Bethany. Like, who did my mom leave her with or I’ll always worry if she’s lonely or scared or – or something like that. I mean, she clearly already has some kind of abandonment issues, especially because of my dad.”

He waits. Blaine waits for the inevitable question from Kurt. He waits to hear ‘why’ or ‘what happened’ but it doesn’t come. Kurt just sits there, polite as you please, head tilted in curiosity because he’s too kind, too thoughtful, and too careful. Blaine has to wonder if his personal issues ever cause Kurt any stress. Sure, Bethany’s around a lot but Blaine thinks that Kurt kind of expected that, especially after their first outing to Breadstix. But now he knows that Blaine has an outrageous amount of skeletons in his closet and sometimes those skeletons cause him to be irritable and moody and downright miserable.

He’s probably one of the most depressing boyfriends on the face of the planet.

Why is Kurt even with him?

“I’m not going to ask,” Kurt says eventually. “You’ll tell me about your dad when you’re ready. I refuse to pry on that issue. If you want to tell me, then tell me, but I won’t ask.”

“I know,” Blaine tells him. “I just don’t understand why you put up with me.”

“Blaine,” Kurt says, his tone gentle and sweet. “I don’t put up with you. Believe it or not, I actually enjoy being with you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here. I don’t put effort into things I don’t care about.”

“Sometimes I think you put too much effort into me.”

“I put the precise amount I mean to,” Kurt says with finality.

Suddenly, his eyes light up and he waves to someone over Blaine’s shoulder. Confused, Blaine turns around to see another boy, blonde hair bright in the sun, a younger boy and a small girl on either side of him.

“Hey, Kurt,” the boy greets happily. “I wasn’t sure if I had the right park or not.”

“I’m glad you found us,” Kurt says. “Sam, this is Blaine, my boyfriend. Blaine, this is Sam.”

“Hey, man,” Sam says with broad smile, shaking Blaine’s hand at once. “This is Stevie and that’s Stacy, my brother and sister.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Blaine replies with a shy wave to the children. “Just a second – Bethany!”

Bethany’s head whirls around and she rushes over to Blaine’s side, cheeks red from child’s play, her hair frizzy and windswept.

She puts her hands on her hips.

“We were busy,” she states, clearly annoyed at being summoned away from her playmates.

“Freeze tag can wait two minutes,” he says sternly. “I want you to meet some people.”

“Who – oh, hi,” Bethany says brightly when she catches sight of the two other kids at Sam’s side.

“Hi,” the young girl says. “I’m Stacy.”

“I’m Bethany,” Blaine’s sister says kindly. “Is that your brother?”

“They both are,” Stacy informs with a shrug of her thin shoulders. “Sam’s real old, though.”

“Blaine’s old, too,” Bethany says. “Like, really old.”

“Thanks,” Blaine says, rolling his eyes.

“Welcome! Wanna come play freeze tag with us?”

Without even waiting for a response, Bethany takes hold of Stacy’s hand and drags her to the playground, Stevie following with an annoyed shake of his head.

“Well that went well,” Sam says, giving a pleased nod and taking a seat next to Blaine on the bench. “Even if we’re practically ancient in their eyes.”

“At least you’ve been blessed with height,” Blaine adds.

“I’ve gotta run,” Kurt interjects as he stands. He plants a quick kiss on Blaine’s warm cheek. “Unpacking and all that. Call me later?”

“Will do,” Blaine says with a smile and a promise.

Blaine watches Kurt walk away, already missing his presence. Sam seems nice enough, sure, but Blaine’s just not all that used to making friends and they were both kind of dragged into this. It almost feels like a blind date.

“How old’s your sister?” Sam asks.

“Eight,” Blaine supplies. “Sometimes it still feels like the terrible twos, though.”

“Oh, man, I hear ya. It’s either that or puberty. Stevie’s only nine, about to be ten and I can already sense the hell on the horizon.”

“God, I don’t even want to think about Beth going through puberty,” Blaine groans. “It’s going to be a nightmare.”

Sam snorts in laughter, giving Blaine a good natured pat on the back. It’s easy after that, talking about their siblings and the crazy antics they can get up to when an older brother’s back is turned. Blaine can sense, almost all at once, that Sam is a good soul with a lot of love in his heart for his family. They watch as Bethany and Stacy get along almost too well too soon, teaming up against Stevie in their game of freeze tag.

“So,” Sam says, “Kurt tells me your mom’s not around much.”

“Or, you know, at all,” Blaine says. “She’d rather be bar hopping. Anywhere but here, basically.”

“That’s rough, dude.”

“It can be, yeah.”

“At least you’re not living in a motel,” Sam reminds him. “Talk about sucking.”

“Oh,” Blaine says awkwardly. “Um, right. Yeah, Kurt kind of…mentioned the whole, uh, homeless deal. But he said you’re not anymore.”

“We’re not,” Sam says with a nod. “We got a new house. It’s small, but it’s ours. My mom and dad worked their asses off for it. It’s hard for them to like, be at home at the same time, but usually one of them is there at dinner. So I guess I’m lucky there.”

“You are,” Blaine agrees.

Sam is definitely lucky in that respect.

“Do you watch them all the time?” Blaine asks.

“During the summer, yeah,” Sam says. “We can’t afford a babysitter right now. But they go to sleepovers and stuff with friends, so sometimes I get a night to myself to just do whatever. They go to an after school program during the school year, though.”

“They do?” Blaine asks curiously. “Does it, um, does it cost a lot?”

“Not a cent,” Sam tells him. “As long as they’re enrolled at the school, they’re eligible for it and they keep them until five. It’s mostly for kids whose parents have to work, you know? It’s kind of like day care, but they’re with kids their age or a bit older.”

“Wow,” Blaine breathes. “And it’s totally free? They just have to be at that school?”

“Yup. And they pretty much just do whatever homework they have and then run around for an hour so they’re nice and tired when you get ‘em back.”

“That sounds glorious. Do you have to fill out any kind of paperwork?”

“Just a couple of forms at registration,” Sam says with a shrug. “You have to get a parent to sign for it, though.”

Well that won’t be hard, Blaine thinks. He’s been forging his mother’s signature for years.

And maybe, just maybe, if Bethany’s busy with the after school program, Blaine might actually have time for a job.

Or show choir.