Chapter Four: Moving Forward

You don't tell anyone about this.

What if we kill her?

Then she can't tell anyone.

Jamie, we can't just-

"Corinne?" Blaine looked up at the police officer. "Can you tell me who did this?"

You tell anyone and you die, you little-

"I don't know." Blaine shook his head, clenching his hands under the hospital blanket to hide the shaking. "I didn't see anything. They- they were wearing ski masks."

"Are you sure?"

You didn't see anything, bitch.

God, he could still hear their voices on top of the percussion of his body bruising and breaking. "I'm sure," he lied. "I didn't see anything."

The officer looked disappointed. Could he tell Blaine was lying? "Well, if you think of anything," the officer said, "maybe a tattoo or a scar or their clothes, here is my card."

He left the bit of paper on the table by Blaine's bed and that was the last time he spoke to the police about it.

When he returned to school, he couldn't even enjoy Glee club. Jamie had terrified anyone who had the nerve to speak to Blaine into calling him his birth name and she or her whenever they could manage. It got to the point where Blaine felt like nothing but a ball of anxiety that was about to cry at the drop of a hat. Glee club felt like a place where people humored him in order to spare his feelings instead of the safe haven it once was. It felt like everyone saw him as a girl. Like they were just being polite.

His mother had stopped him going to work after the dance. She barely let him out of her sight, and he'd sometimes catch her staring at him with watery eyes. It was like she thought if she took her eyes off him, he'd disappear or get attacked again.

They'd started checking IDs at the door to school. If only the "Have a nice day, Miss Anderson," each morning was the worst part of his day.

After two weeks of misery and fear, Blaine decided he had to do something. Anything. He'd end up killing himself if things didn't get better. First, he tried just seeking words of comfort, watching "it gets better" videos on YouTube, but they were all for gay and lesbian kids. Finally, he tried searching "it gets better ftm" and only ended up feeling worse because the two guys doing the video opened by talking about how they debated making the video at all because only sort of gets better.

He cried himself to sleep that night.

The next day, he did the only thing he could think of to make it better. He printed out a name change form, filled it out, and wrote a check. Instead of Glee rehearsal, Blaine took the bus to the court and filed it. He just had to make sure that he intercepted the mail so that his parents never got the notification.

When he got home, his parents were in a panic. "Where were you?" his mother asked immediately.

"I was at Glee rehearsal," Blaine told her.

"We just got a call from that- Miss Johnson," his mother said and Blaine froze. "You weren't in rehearsal. She says she's worried about you. Wants a meeting. Sweetheart, where were you?"

"I just wanted to go for a walk," Blaine lied. "I needed to think."

"You're fourteen!" his mother cried. "You can't just walk around by yourself! Without telling anyone! You could've been-"

His father wrapped his mother into a hug as she started crying. "You're grounded, young lady," his father said to him. "Dinner is in half an hour, and we are going to have a talk."

Blaine replied by going upstairs to his room. For reasons he couldn't explain, he felt better. He felt... loads better. Filing that name change form was like a step forward. Maybe tomorrow, it'd be back to fear and misery but right now... Blaine was the master of his own fate.

His mother only got worse after the meeting with Ms. Johnson. He had to start going to Glee rehearsals again or she was never going to believe he was alright. He wasn't alright, not yet, not by a long shot, but her smothering only made it worse. It wasn't that he minded them terribly. Singing was the only thing that made him feel normal anymore. But he had to be home to get the mail before his parents. The notification of his name change might come any day now and if they saw, they'd probably contest it. He couldn't go through a big trial or legal battle or whatever it would take to get his name changed without their permission.

Naturally, the notice came the one day he stayed for rehearsal.

His parents were both waiting for him in the living room.

"Corinne."

He saw them both sitting there, hands held on the couch between them, a show of solidarity. "Hi, mom. Dad. Something wrong?"

"Sweetheart, come sit down."

He did, though all of his instincts screamed at him to run the other way.

"We know this has been hard on you," his mother began, "but you can talk to us. You don't have to... Frankly, I don't understand what you think you're going through, but changing your name isn't the answer. Especially not to Blaine. You do know that's a boy's name, don't you sweetheart?"

Blaine took a moment to think. "You're right," he said finally. "It has been hard. I really liked Tyler. He was my best friend and I had a huge crush on him and now he's dead. And it's my fault."

"Oh, sweetheart-"

"No, mom. It is. He wouldn't have gone to that dance if I hadn't asked him. And if he hadn't gone to that dance, he'd still be alive."

"Well, apparently he was gay or something, so I can't say I'm sorry it happened."

Blaine glanced sharply at his father. "What if I were gay, dad?" Blaine asked. "Would you want some jocks to bash my head in, too?"

"Well, you're not gay," his dad said simply. "And what do you mean jocks? I thought you said they were wearing masks. How do you know they were jocks?"

Blaine stood, shaking with rage. "Well, dad. I am gay."

"Of course you aren't," his dad scoffed. "You just told us you had a crush on that boy."

"I am gay," Blaine said. "I like boys, I am a boy, that makes me gay."

"Corinne, sweetheart-"

"No, mom. I'm done pretending to be the perfect little daughter. It's too much. I'm not a girl. I've never been a girl. I can't stand being treated like a girl. It's killing me."

"Of course you're a girl, sweetheart."

"No. I'm not."

"Corinne, I changed your diapers, I think I'd know-"

"I'm transgender, mom. I don't care what you saw when you changed my diapers. I'm not a girl."

"I don't ever want to hear that word come out of your mouth again, Corinne Anderson." His father's voice was dangerous now. "Now, go to your room, put on a dress, and we are going out for a family dinner."

"I'm not putting on a dress." Blaine was still determined, but something in him was afraid.

"You will put on a dress and go to dinner, Corinne, or you will leave this house."

"Dad-"

"I mean it, Corinne. I will not have a daughter who insists she's some kind of tranny whore. Now go put on a dress."

"I'm not going to put on a dress." Blaine's voice was shaking. He looked at his mother, pleading, but she wasn't looking at him. "I'm not a girl."

"You have ten minutes," his father said and stood. "Get your things and get out of my house."

"Dad-" Blaine was crying now.

"Nine minutes."

Blaine stared at his father, but his face didn't soften. Blaine ran upstairs and began to shove what he could into a duffle bag. He couldn't stop crying. As he went to grab an extra pair of shoes from his closet, he saw the four dresses hanging in the corner.

It wasn't too late. He could still... he grabbed the tennis shoes from the floor and shoved them into his bag. He couldn't be a girl. He couldn't do it. His ACE bandage was slipping and digging into his ribs. He reached under his shirt to pull it up and slung the bag over his shoulder just as his father appeared in the doorway. "You don't have to do this," Blaine begged.

"You can come back any time you decide to see reason."

"I'm fourteen."

"Yes. You're fourteen and I won't tolerate disobedience."

"I'm not going to change, dad. This is who I am. I can't help it."

"You can, Corinne. You can stop insisting that your feelings have anything to do with your actions. You can put on a dress and stop acting like a child."

"I'm not... I can't help who I am. Dad, please."

"Get out of my house. I won't have these disgusting ideas in my house. It's an abomination."

Blaine nodded. He couldn't say anything else. He tried looking for his mom on the way out the door, but she'd disappeared.

He was alone.