They didn’t talk as they walked to the coffee place. They didn’t talk in the line. Blaine offered to wait for the drinks while Alexander found a table, and he declined. Couldn’t miss out on silent quality time together. They stared intensely at the counter until three cups arrived and Blaine took the tray immediately. His father was about to offer, but Blaine nodded towards his hands and he realised they were full. They walked to a table in the corner, leaving a seat between them for Kurt. Blaine laughed inwardly, realising just how awkward that was going to be when he arrived, but he couldn’t exactly say ‘I’d better move, because my husband won’t want to sit by you’. It might seem rude. Mr Anderson cleared his throat, stroking his chin where stubble was forcing its way through. He slumped in his chair slightly, obviously worn out from the flight. Blaine was almost pathetically grateful to him for being there, but it didn’t fix everything.

“So, I suppose we should talk. About everything.” Blaine nodded. His dad was going to have to start, because he didn’t know where to begin. There was a long pause. “Blaine… I’m sorry.”

“OK.” He didn’t know what else to say without dissolving into ranting and crying and he couldn’t do that any more today.

“You know I regret it, right? How I was?” Blaine didn’t nod. He didn’t move. “I mean… I want to explain… I was so angry. Not at you, at me. When your mother left… I know how all this sounds, OK? I know you probably think I’m making excuses, but I’m not, because there aren’t any. I’m just trying to explain.” Blaine blinked hard and looked down.

“OK.” Alexander stared into his coffee cup and took a deep breath, just the way Blaine always did when he was trying not to do the wrong thing, when he was trying to contain himself, trying to buy time to plan what he would do next.

“When she left, I was so embarrassed. It was mortifying. I was - I was angry with her for abandoning you, I was angry with myself for not finding a way to make her stay, I was furious at everything. But mostly, I was angry that you weren’t going to have that perfect family you were supposed to have.” Blaine noticed the flecks of grey in his hair. In fact, the flecks were the dark bits. The grey had taken over. They both turned their coffee cups around without thinking. “I’d always had this picture of how things were meant to be. Me and your mother and you boys. And that day, she was just gone. I saw an empty wardrobe, only three toothbrushes left in the cup, no jewellery, no make-up, money gone. The house felt empty. I felt empty.”

“You had us, Dad.”

“I had you. I didn’t know where Lucas was half the time.”

“So you were mad at Luke, fine. Why did you take it out on me? I didn’t do anything wrong, Dad. I helped out at home, I got good grades, I did everything right. Suddenly, I like a boy and none of that meant anything.”

“That’s not fair. When you came out, I tried. You know I tried.”

“With the car?”

“Not just that, Blaine. I asked about school, about choir, I tried to help you with your homework-”

“You did before she left. After that, it was like you were gone too. Can you really blame Luke for being angry with you?” It was probably counter-productive having this conversation now, with both of them being so exhausted, but they needed to get it out of the way before they could discuss Becca. “When she walked, you took it out on me; whenever he did something wrong, you took it out on me, and I didn’t understand why. Of all the people you were supposed to be angry with, you chose to be horrible to me.” Alexander grasped his cup, staring at his hands. Blaine was right. “You were yelling at me one second and giving me the silent treatment the next. Just because he wasn’t there, you threw it all at the kid who stayed around. With all the shit he got into-”

“I know. And Blaine, when you told me you were gay, I was determined to do it right. The parent-of-a-gay-kid thing. I-I read pamphlets and called advice lines and everything. But when you told me about him-”

“His name was Kurt. It still is.”

“When you told me about Kurt, the timing couldn’t have been worse, OK? My wife had disappeared, one son was going off the rails, and the other wants to bring a boy home. We couldn’t have been more dysfunctional if we’d tried.”

“But we were functional. Kurt and me. We always were, Dad. Even now, we’re moving all over the country from some crappy play, we’re broke, and now this mess… But we’re still a team. We’re still a family.”

“I know. But with you, it felt like the last bit of my perfect family had slipped away. It used to be so different when I was your age. Someone being gay, it was awful. It was a dirty secret. Any other time, I could have dealt with it properly, I could have gotten past the initial shock, but on top of everything else it felt like the last straw. I don’t know why I reacted like I did-”

“I do. You were drunk.”

“I’ve stopped, by the way. I don’t touch it any more.”

“Well, that’s something.”

“I know it doesn’t make up for everything-”

“You want to talk about embarrassing? You know what’s mortifying? Telling your boyfriend he can’t come to your house because you’re scared of your dad. Constantly being invited to his, because his parents know you’re afraid to go home.”

“Blaine-”

“Having to ask your boyfriend to help you cover up a black eye. That’s fucking humiliating, Dad. And they didn’t ask me a single question. They knew I wouldn’t want to get you into trouble, so they just took me in. That’s what dads are supposed to be like.”

“I know-”

“I had to live in their house, eat their food, with them in my face every day. No raised voices, no awkward silences, just a perfect little family that had to look after me because mine was broken.” Both of their eyes were burning.

“Blaine, I’m so sorry. I’d give anything to go back, I hope you know that. Anything. But I can’t.”

“I do know. And I know I can’t stay angry with you, because there’s nothing we can do about it now, and I don’t have the energy, and I’m so grateful that you’re here. I know it’s complicated and that you didn’t have to come as quickly as you did, and you’ve had a long day. But if I don’t say this stuff now, I never will. And I’ve been blocking it out since I was eighteen.”

“I know.” He wasn’t avoiding his gaze any more. He was staring straight into his eyes, even though it hurt because they were both trying not to cry, because he knew he deserved to feel that pain. He knew it wasn’t fair that Blaine had been hurting because of him. He thought that if he could take some of that pain on board, maybe it wouldn’t hurt him so much. He knew it didn’t work like that, but he felt like it was all he could do.

Kurt walked towards them, but stopped a few steps away when he saw their faces. He could tell Blaine was miserable, they both were, but he had to leave them to it. He smiled when he saw them fidgeting in their seats and slowly rotating their cups in the exact same way. Under the table, he spotted their toes pushing up inside their shoes. Mr Anderson looked different to before. He’d stopped looking like a bitter, cold stranger, and started looking like an older, greyer version of Blaine. He looked exhausted, but he seemed softer somehow.

“It just hurt. It’s obvious, but I’ve got to say it. When I moved to Dalton, at first I thought you were trying to help-”

“I was-”

“But eventually it felt like you just wanted me out of the house. Like as long as the neighbours couldn’t see me, maybe you could get away with them not knowing about me. Maybe you’d never have to deal with it.”

“Blaine, I was trying to keep you safe-”

“I know, and it worked. I was happy there, and I was grateful to you for sending me there and paying for everything, but it still felt like you were hiding me. Even then I knew it wasn’t true, but that’s still how it felt.” Kurt resisted the urge to run over and hold him. They weren’t done yet. Even though that coffee looked really good. “And I didn’t tell you about Kurt for so long. When any kid has their first boyfriend or girlfriend or whatever, they’re supposed to talk to their parents about it. I always thought that would be fine with you, even if I couldn’t have it with Mom, but-” Alexander laid his hand on top of Blaine’s, stopping him from fiddling with his drink. His shoulders dropped, having been tightening the whole time they’d been sitting there.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say.” Blaine didn’t move his hand away. He rested his head in his other palm and a tear slowly dripped off his chin.

“It was like there was so much you wanted to say to her, but you had to take it out on me. I know it wasn’t because of Kurt, I know the gay thing was only a tiny part of it, but…” his voice wavered and he sniffed, “I was sick of feeling like I wasn’t good enough for you. I think when you hit me,” Alexander’s brow furrowed, and he swallowed. Out of everything, his failed marriage, his drinking, everything he’d done wrong, that was what he regretted the most. He’d spent countless nights crying, trying to forget it. “I think it was just the breaking point. I would’ve left sooner or later. Maybe you needed to hit your lowest point.”

“But I didn’t need to hit you. I wish… I wish I could fix this. But Blaine, there’s something I can fix.” Blaine nodded and sat up. “Tell me about her. What’s the situation?” Kurt took that as his cue to join them.

“So, what did I miss?” He slid into his seat, resting his hand on Blaine’s knee.

“We, uh… I was about to explain the Becca… Thing. Feel free to do it for me; I don’t know where to start.” Kurt took a deep breath, and began.