Chapter 5

It was an unseasonably balmy November day as Blaine exited the Student Union building. He closed his eyes, face turned up toward the late afternoon sun, relishing the unexpected warmth. He hadn't even needed the jacket he'd grabbed "just in case" as he left the loft that morning. He shook himself out of his reverie and started down the stairs, when he heard someone behind him call his name.

Turning, he saw Peter Johnson walking toward him, grinning. Blaine had been successfully avoiding Mr. Johnson's usual hangout spots ever since Kurt had clued him in, but now there was nowhere to escape and it was too late to pretend he hadn't heard or seen him. He braced himself as the man caught up, clapping him on the back like he was a long-lost friend.

"Blaine! So good to see you again! I was hoping I would have heard from you before now. Are you ready to come in for your audition?" Pete said brightly.

"Thank you, but no." Blaine said, polite but firm. "I've heard about the kind of movies Pegasus Films makes, and I don't think it's a good match."

"Ah," Pete said, and shrugged. "You can understand why I might not lead with that information, yes? But, many actors I meet who tell me they're not interested at first eventually come around. Its a great way to make good money for a couple of days work, and we pay cash. That has its appeal, what with tuition, the cost of living in this city—and Christmas is just around the corner, you know!"

"I'm doing just fine on that front, thanks." Blaine said. "I'm going to pass."

Pete shook his head, disappointed but still buoyant. "That's too bad. I really think you'd be great." He took out another business card and pressed it into Blaine's hand. "My offer for an audition still stands. You keep that card and let me know when you're ready."

"I'm not going to be ready. I'm NOT INTERESTED," Blaine called after Pete's retreating figure, but Pete just waved without looking back and disappeared around the corner of the next building. Blaine huffed in frustration and dropped the card in the nearest trash can before continuing on his way.

Christmas was the first time Blaine had been back to Ohio since he left for New York City. His mother had been watching anxiously out the window since he'd texted her that their flight had arrived safely in Columbus— though she'd never admit it. The moment the Hummels' black Navigator turned into the driveway, Teresa Anderson was out the door and ready to tackle Blaine with a hug the moment he got out of the vehicle.

William Anderson stood watching from the doorway as his son grabbed his suitcase from the trunk, then put his arm around his mother and walked up to the front porch. William stood back and held the door open so Teresa and Blaine could come inside from the cold.

"Welcome home, Blaine," William said, taking his son's coat and hanging it up in the hall closet. He reached for the suitcase. "This looks heavy. I'll take it up for you."

Blaine picked it up first, and flashed a wide smile. "Thanks, dad. I can handle this." He sprinted up the stairs to his room as his mother called after him from the kitchen, reminding him not to dawdle because supper was almost ready. When he came back down, his father was filling glasses with water while his mother placed the large salad bowl and bottles of dressing on the table. Cooper would be flying in from L.A. tomorrow, so tonight it was just the three of them.

Time and Teresa's behind-the-scenes diplomatic efforts had diffused the residual anger that had separated father and son. Things between them were still a little awkward but civil, both men making their best effort for her and for the sake of the holidays.

"So, Blaine," his father ventured casually, "how's life in the big city been treating you?"

"Quite well, actually. I've been lucky to have good guides. Kurt and Rachel have been helping me get acclimated to New York, so I'm starting to feel like a real native now," Blaine said. "It's different from Lima, but I really love the activity and energy there. And—" he paused for a moment to take more vegetables when his mother passed him the dish— "it's great to know I can get falafel or pad thai any hour of the day or night if the mood strikes."

"Oh Blaine!" Teresa was horrified. "Please tell me you aren't keeping a schedule that has you always going out for greasy food in the middle of the night!"

"I do everything I can to make sure I get my recommended daily allowance of fruit, veggies and sleep, Mom." Blaine raised his right hand in a mock-Boy Scout pledge, "I do solemnly swear."

She pursed her lips at him. "You know I'm going to ask Kurt to verify this information when he comes over tomorrow."

"Oh, he will," Blaine said brightly, then stage-whispered "or he'll never see his expensive moisturizer again," and his mother giggled.

"Things... going alright, living with Kurt and Rachel?" his dad asked.

"Yeah, they are," Blaine nodded. And so it begins. His father was fishing— Blaine was sure of it.

He met his father's gaze and smiled. "They already had a pretty good system for how they divided expenses and chores, so it wasn't too hard to add me in." He reached for another roll, pulling it apart to dip in the gravy on his plate, and continued, "But, I am glad that I had that year boarding at Dalton and dealing with roommates, or I'd never get any shower time or bathroom shelf space!"

Teresa and William both laughed, and Blaine grinned, glancing from his mom to his dad, and— he could have sworn he caught a glimpse of something else in his father's expression that was quickly masked.Okay, that's interesting.

"Still," William said, taking the salad bowl from his wife, "even splitting expenses three ways, living in New York is not cheap."

"True, but I'm actually doing okay. I've picked up a couple of part-time jobs that fit around my class schedule, and we stick pretty closely to our budget. There are a lot of things to see and do in New York that are inexpensive— or even free— if you know where to look."

"Is working that much hurting your grades?" William asked, concerned.

Blaine had to admit that deep inside, he felt an almost obnoxious pride at being able to honestly tell his dad that no, really, I am doing just fine on my own—but he did his best to keep his expression open, his tone polite. Being smug now could damage the truce that had been taking shape between them, and he wasn't willing to risk it.

"Actually, I've been maintaining A's and B's, and my music teacher thinks I show enough promise that she asked me to take on teaching a few grade-school student piano and voice lessons for her." William's eyebrows quirked up in surprise for an instant before he seemed to catch himself— then the mask of amicable neutrality fell again.Maybe Cooper and I inherited more than just our stubbornness from him.

The conversation shifted to Teresa's volunteer work at the library and catching Blaine up on the most recent gossip about their country club friends. William let her carry the bulk of the conversation, occasionally nodding in support or adding a bit of color commentary when asked, but otherwise staying uncharacteristically quiet. Blaine could feel his father's eyes on him as they cleared the table after dinner. Something between them had shifted, but he wasn't quite sure what.

Blaine rinsed the last plate and put it in the dishwasher, then straightened up to find William watching him from the kitchen doorway with a contemplative expression on his face.

"Blaine, I— I'm glad you're home," his father said, his tone a little stilted but not unkind.

"Me too," Blaine said, smiling.

The holidays passed in a whirlwind of color, food and activity— amping up even more when Cooper hit town. Teresa revelled in fussing over her grown sons; with the whole family again under one roof, she went into overdrive cooking and baking, coaxing them to have just a just a little more, insisting they were getting too thin living on their own. What kind of mother would I be letting you starve in my house? You need to eat!

Blaine took advantage of every opportunity to reconnect with his friends from McKinley and Dalton who had come back to Ohio for the holidays, especially since they had all scattered so far and wide across the country after graduation. What was a few nights of lost sleep in comparison, right? It was time head back to responsibilities of life in New York all too soon.

William drove Blaine and Kurt back to the airport in Columbus. After checking their bags, they found a small café and ordered some coffee. Kurt excused himself to go find a restroom, leaving father and son alone in companionable silence at the table.

Taking a deep breath, William spoke first. "I was wrong, Blaine," he said.

"I... certainly didn't expect you to lead withthat."

"Kurt told me this week about how hard you've been working— between your jobs and classes and all. He says you never even complain about it, that you've taken it all on with such dedication and maturity. And I can see it for myself, just these few days you've been home. You carry yourself differently— with even more confidence and purpose. I guess I wasn't willing to see just how much my little boy had grown up."

Blaine blinked, stunned. "Dad, I—"

William held up his hand."Let me finish. This isn't easy for me to say and I need to get this out while I have momentum. I was so worried about you being on your own in New York. I still worry about you pursuing a career in show-business, but I know forcing you to do something 'safer' like business or law would be like putting a candle under a bushel basket— the flame would either be snuffed out or burn right through." William looked Blaine in the eye. "You need to let your talent shine."

***

It had been another long day of classes with an equally long shift at the diner, and he could feel it in every last one of his muscles. In two weeks, he'd be starting his new job giving voice and piano lessons— which meant he could leave the grease and long hours at the diner behind. Blaine pulled the collar of his coat up around his ears to protect them from the cold January wind whipping through the streets of the city, but the weather and the late hour didn't really bother him too much, lost in his own thoughts as he was. He remembered the look on his father's face at the airport, as he smiled and said, "I'm proud of you, son. If anyone can do this, you can!" Blaine could feel the warmth of that moment radiating out from his core even now.

He altered his usual route, stopping by the ATM to withdraw his share of this month's rent from his account. That task completed, he turned to head home, to Kurt and their soft bed. He didn't notice the dark figure that slipped out from the alley and fell into step behind him.

***

Kurt was startled awake by his cell phone buzzing on the coffee table. Through bleary eyes, he barely registered the time— 2:17 a.m.— and realized he'd fallen asleep on the couch watching a movie while waiting up for Blaine. He briefly wondered why Blaine hadn't woken him when he got home from the diner as he swiped the screen of his phone to answer the call.

"May I speak to Mr. Kurt Hummel?" the voice on the other end of the line inquired.

"I'm Kurt Hummel," he mumbled sleepily.

"Mr. Hummel, this is Margo Robbins from Wyckoff Heights Medical Center. Blaine Anderson was brought into our emergency room just after midnight. He has you listed as his emergency contact?"