“Summer’s almost over,” Blaine remarks one afternoon, nestled next to Kurt on an old blanket. They’re seated comfortably, hand in hand, hip to hip beneath a massive, ancient tree in their usual park. The branches and their bright green leaves provide just enough shade to be a blessing in the heat, but a few rays of sunlight trickle through, bright against one of Kurt’s pale cheeks. Kurt smiles slightly, a mere quirk of his lips before resting his head on Blaine’s shoulder.

Bethany stands a few feet away from them, twirling about in a pink summer dress, her little feet skipping along through the blades of grass. Nearby, Blaine can see that a mother has dragged along a battery operated radio to occupy her three children for the afternoon. Blaine is grateful for the distraction; it gives Bethany something to do while Blaine soaks up Kurt’s company in relative peace.

“It’s been a good one, though,” Kurt adds to Blaine’s previous statement.

Blaine grins, pressing a kiss into Kurt’s hair. It smells like sunflowers. “One of the best,” he whispers.

Kurt’s grip on his hand tightens. The moment is perfect. It’s a world awash in summer colors and sunbeams, the carefree sound of children laughing in the air, and maybe a summer love that could be something more. Blaine sighs in contentment.

Until –

“Blainey!”

Groaning, Blaine reluctantly gives his sister his full attention. “What?” he asks, doing his best to keep the irritation out of his voice.

“Dance with me!” Bethany demands. “I like this song!”

Blaine rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “No way, Beth,” he tells her. “There’s no way I can dance as well as you.”

“Please, Blaine, please, please, please-”

“Why don’t you show me?” Blaine suggests instead, unwilling to leave the cocoon of everything he has come to know as good. “So I can dance with you next time.”

She scrunches her little face, but eventually shrugs in agreement to his terms. She begins to dance alone, her small feet gliding around, a ghost of what she remembers from when she took ballet lessons when she was four.

“You watching?” she asks, just to be sure.

“I’m watching, Beth,” he tells her, though really he’s more caught up in the lyrics of the song she has chosen to dance to.

The words are a little faint, emitting through the tinny speakers of a portable radio but for some reason they still speak to Blaine.

Here’s to the twilight
Here’s to the memories
These are my souvenirs
My mental pictures of everything
Here’s to the late nights
Here’s to the firelight
These are my souvenirs
My souvenirs

Bethany dances as the song continues, but Blaine can’t help but feel Kurt’s presence even more keenly than before. He’s solid against Blaine’s side; a rock, his strength, his heart. Their time together has been so very short, but even in these few short months, Blaine can confidently say that he’s never been more grateful for another soul as he is for Kurt.

I close my eyes and go back in time
I can see you’re smiling, you’re so alive
We were so young, we had no fear
We were so young, we had no idea
That life was just happening
Life was just happening

Maybe there is something like God, Blaine thinks absurdly. Because meeting Kurt was something more than luck. He remembers the first day they met, the first shared smile and the way he shouted across the street for Kurt’s number. It all just happened. It happened perfectly and Blaine never expected any of it.

Kurt’s just the boy next door, but he’s also the boy that insisted Blaine had a future and a heart that was still whole even though he still doesn’t know the entirety of Blaine’s story. But this summer has been absolutely remarkable. Blaine makes a promise to himself; he’ll file away every day, every moment, every hour and if things ever turn sour, he’ll turn to these memories and he’ll be happy again.

Here’s to your bright eyes
Shining like fireflies
These are my souvenirs
The memory of a lifetime
We were wide-eyed with everything
Everything around us
We were enlightened by everything
Everything

And now, quite suddenly, Blaine can see a future with this boy. Okay, so perhaps he’s a bit crazy for thinking about a future with Kurt so early in their relationship. Actually, he’s definitely crazy. But, as he looks down at Kurt and Kurt glances up at him, Blaine can see a lifetime in Kurt’s eyes and he can picture lines etched with love and grace on Kurt’s face and maybe they’ll have a cat or maybe someday they’ll adopt a little girl that looks like Bethany and they’ll be the best dads in the world.

Oh god, he really is crazy.

But, like the song says, he’s young. No one can blame him for having hope.

Right?

“Blaine, you’re not watching!”

Bethany’s voice cuts through Blaine’s daydreams and he returns his gaze to his little sister.

“I’m watching,” he says.

He feels Kurt’s hand wrap around his arm.

“So when you dance,” Bethany says, now that she has her brother’s attention once more, “you can twirl like this.” She demonstrates her point by spinning about, her pink dress fluttering around her as she goes. “That’s my favorite thing.”

“How else can you dance?” Kurt asks and something solid and warm clenches around Blaine’s heart.

That kind of happens a lot when Kurt’s good with his sister.

“Well, you can do leaps like this,” she says, leaping as gracefully as possible on her rail thin, eight year old legs. It’s more adorable than graceful, though, but Blaine wisely keeps his mouth shut on the subject. She leaps and bounds, smiling as she goes.

Blaine wonders if the elementary school offers free dance lessons.

“And if it’s a real fast song,” Bethany adds, “you can jump up and down!”

She jumps repeatedly, arms stretched out wide, her young face laughing along with the sun. Her knees are knobby. The hem of her dress is covered in grass stains. There’s dirt smeared on the side of her left leg but none of that matters because Bethany gets to be a kid. She gets to dance in the grass to a song she’ll probably forget by tomorrow and that’s okay.

Everything is okay.

Later that evening, Bethany is dead asleep after dinner, her energy spent for the day. Blaine and Kurt sit on opposite ends of the couch in Blaine’s living room with their legs intertwined between them.

“I want to tell you about my dad,” Blaine says softly.

“…Are you sure?” Kurt wonders, resting his hands on top of Blaine’s leg, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle against the skin there.

“Yeah,” Blaine admits. “You’ve been – we’ve been together for months now and-”

“Wait,” Kurt interrupts. “The amount of time we’ve been a couple has nothing to do with your past or your dad or anything like that. I don’t want you to feel obligated to tell me anything.”

“I don’t feel obligated. It’s just that, well, what happened back then is sort of the reason why…we are the way we are. Not us,” Blaine rushes to say. “Not you and me. I mean my family.”

Kurt eyes him speculatively from the other end of the sofa, tilting his head, causing Blaine to want to avoid his scrutiny. Blaine drags his feet away from Kurt, forcing himself to sit stiffly on the edge of the couch. When he’s sure that Kurt won’t move in kind, he inhales deeply.

He thinks back to the years he wishes he could forget.

“I had just turned fourteen,” he begins. “Bethany was about to turn five. And I came out to my parents.”

Blaine pauses. He needs another breath.

“It was over dinner. We used – before all this, we had family dinner every night. Bethany told mom and dad about her days at school and I told them about my good grades and…we were happy, I guess. For the most part. But I – I ruined everything. When I told them that I was gay. My mom didn’t say anything but my dad just said, ‘No, you’re not,’ and kept eating. I said I was positive I was and he just…exploded. He started yelling at me so obviously I started yelling back and Bethany started crying. At some point, we all stood up and my mom went to take Bethany out of the dining room but my dad and I kept yelling at each other and I don’t know if he’d had too much wine with dinner or whatever but he – he slapped me.”

“Oh, Blaine,” Kurt whispers, almost inaudibly.

Blaine squeezes his eyes shut, but he hears shuffling at his side and flinches when Kurt rests a hand on his shoulder.

“Please,” he says in apology as he puts some distance between them again on the couch. “Just – let me-”

“Okay,” Kurt says, though he sounds a little hurt.

“So when he – when he did that, Bethany just started screaming and mom came over and shoved Dad away from me and told him to get out.”

“Your mom kicked your dad out of the house?” Kurt asks.

“She told me to take Beth into her room,” Blaine explains. “So I did and they kept yelling. It was – it was so loud,” Blaine recalls, the memory turning his heart to ice. “They were so loud and I don’t remember half the things they said but dad must’ve started throwing stuff because I remember things breaking. Bethany was – she was so scared, she was shaking. So I grabbed her favorite teddy bear and the flashlight she kept in her nightstand because she was scared of the dark and I locked us in her closet.”

Kurt doesn’t say anything in response, recognizing the fact that Blaine isn’t done with his story. Blaine wishes he could reach out, wishes he could take Kurt’s hand through the rest of it but he knows he’ll crumble if he does so. Instead, he wraps his arms around his middle and continues.

“They kept yelling. Bethany wouldn’t stop crying. I gave her the bear and the flashlight and I put my hands over her ears so she wouldn’t have to listen. I didn’t want her to hear whatever they were saying, you know? Mom was pissed off that he hit me, dad was pissed off that I was gay. I think, more than anything, she was scared of him hitting either one of us again.”

“So…she told him to leave?” Kurt attempts to understand.

Blaine nods. “I never saw him again. He packed all of his clothes and stuff that night. He left everything else behind; he left pictures and his favorite watch and just – left. Bethany said he came up to her school one day and told her goodbye, but he never talked to me after that night. It’s just like, one minute things were fine and then I told him I was gay and something inside him broke. So he left us. Mom started working two jobs. I helped out as much as I could. Things just got – got really hard. We tried to make it work, but when I started high school, freshman year was kind of horrible for me so I transferred to Dalton Academy, this really swanky private school. I went there for two years before we basically ran out of money.”

“And that’s why you moved to Lima.”

“That’s why I moved to Lima,” Blaine says softly. “Because we were broke and I couldn’t go back to the public school there.

“You didn’t ruin anything.”

“I – what?”

“You said you ruined everything,” Kurt reminds. “But you didn’t ruin anything. Your dad didn’t accept you. Your dad hit you. He’s the one that started the chain of events, Blaine, not you. You were just being honest about who you were.”

“But if I was straight-”

“No,” Kurt says in a hard tone, scooting closer to Blaine on the sofa and sliding his hands into Blaine’s hair. “There are no ‘ifs’. It isn’t your job to make things okay. Your parents are the ones who have to work on acceptance and understanding. You’re just supposed to be you. Trust me, it’s a lesson I learned the hard way, but that’s how it is.”

“But look at everything now,” Blaine says. “I’m basically a parent. My mother doesn’t even want to be here. Bethany doesn’t have her dad. And-”

“She might not have a dad, but she has the greatest brother any little girl could dream of having. She’ll be able to look after herself eventually and you’ll be able to live your own life because you won’t be worrying about her so much. And your mother needs to take responsibility and realize that she still has an eight year old daughter to care for because you aren’t just a convenient babysitter, you’re a person. And you’re her son. The same son she fought for when you were fourteen.”

“Maybe,” Blaine admits. “But she’s not going to do that anytime soon.”

“Well,” Kurt says, leaning over to press a kiss to Blaine’s temple, “in the meantime, you have me.”

Blaine nods, finally allowing Kurt to pull Blaine to his chest. They relax against the back of the sofa, the silence of the house almost comforting. They don’t speak for a long time. Blaine allows himself to be held, allows himself to get lost in Kurt’s presence. It’s simple like this, with Bethany asleep and Kurt at his side.

He wishes he could have this more often.

Two a.m. rolls around. Kurt is gone. Blaine’s eyes become heavy, body exhausted as he tunes out the sound of an infomercial on the television.

The front door opens.

His mother walks in, appearing less drunk than she had the night before yet still reeking of alcohol and the stale scent of cigarettes. She doesn’t say anything at first, instead toeing off her shoes and collapsing next to Blaine on the couch. They both stare in silence at the TV screen.

“So, where’s your boyfriend?” she asks plainly.

“W-what?”

“Kurt, right? That’s his name?”

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“Bethany talks about him all the time,” his mother reveals. “I’m surprised you don’t talk about him more often.”

“I…didn’t think you’d care, to be honest.”

“Of course I care. After all, I’m the one who fought against your father in your honor. Be yourself,” Kathy says. “Isn’t that the motto of your generation?”

“For some,” Blaine says flatly, pulling himself to his feet.

“Why haven’t I met him yet?” his mom asks.

“Because you’re never here.”

“Someone has to put food on the table.”

“You’d be able to put more if you didn’t spend half your paycheck at the bars every weekend,” Blaine states.

“I’m a grown woman, Blaine. You don’t get to tell me how to live my life.”

“You know what?” Blaine hisses, whirling around to face his mother. “That’s the kind of thing I should be saying. I’m the teenager in this house. I’m the one that should be staying out late. I’m the one that should have the attitude. But I’m not. Instead, I’m the one that tucks your daughter into bed every night. I’m the one that makes sure she eats dinner and makes sure she’s happy and healthy. I’m the one that acts like the parent here. Doesn’t that strike you as a little odd?”

He glares down at his mother, wondering if she can even see his face with only the television lighting his back. Kathy’s mouth is pressed into a thin line. Other than that, she shows almost no emotion whatsoever.

“Next weekend,” she says, ignoring Blaine’s accusations. “Sunday. Invite Kurt over for dinner. I’d like to meet the boy that my son has suddenly become so enamored with.”

“Right, like you’ll actually be at home for dinner for once,” Blaine says with a roll of his eyes.

“I have the right to see exactly who my daughter is spending so much time with.”

Kathy narrows her eyes.

Blaine hates this. He hates that she can just pick and choose whenever she wants to be a parent. It isn’t fair to him. It isn’t fair to Bethany.

“He might not have the time,” Blaine says airily.

“I’m sure your boyfriend will make time to meet your mother.”