The gray color of the morning clouds made the florescent lights of the school more blinding than usual as Kurt entered the still silent building. Warm coffee in hand, he made his way through the halls to the choir room. When he'd first started coming to school early the silence was eerie rather than comforting. He cringed at every sound which led him to the decision to hang out in the choir room while he waited for the building to come to life. The swim team getting out of practiced echoed through the hall from the locker room around the corner. He approached the door to the choir room pulling a key from one of the small pockets in his messenger bag. After he'd come in a few mornings to find Mr. Shue had already arrived he'd explained why was getting to school so early. Mr. Shue told him that he wasn't always around and couldn't just leave the room unlocked so he got a key for Kurt.

He walked into the room and headed straight for the piano, flipping on the small lamp that sat on it. He didn't usually play the piano when he came in, mostly he sat in one of the ugly plastic chairs and did homework, or sometimes he would sing. Several months ago, Kurt was afraid to make any unnecessary noise, unsure of who would hear him. The whole point of going in early was to not draw attention to himself. Today though, the room was comforted by the clouded sky in the way it's comforting to curl up on the couch and read or watch a movie when the sky darkens before rain. I wonder if it will snow today, Kurt thought to himself.

Lifting the smooth black cover away from the keys, Kurt sat down at the piano. His fingers drifted over the black and white keys, deciding how to brake the silence in the room. He pressed one finger down on a random key. The sound filled the room beautifully. Kurt sat up a little straighter and placed his hands once more above the keys, this time, with purpose. He began playing the melody his mother had taught him when he was little. No matter how long he went without playing he was sure that he would never be able to forget how to play it.

Lost in repetition of the song, Kurt missed how the noise outside the room grew louder and louder until the first warning bell rang. He stopped playing abruptly, now on his fifth, or was it the sixth, time through. He shut the piano and picked up his bag from where it rested against the leg of the piano bench.

There was a non-stop flow of people that could be seen through the small window in the door. He was normally in homeroom already. It's just couple of minutes later, he thought, trying to keep panicking at bay. Opening the door just enough to slip out, Kurt ventured into the crowds of people. Groups of friends delayed the time it took to get to his homeroom which was, thankfully, in the opposite direction of the locker rooms and down the next hall. He could probably make it in under a minute if he had left the choir room on time, but now groups lingered in the middle of the hallway which Kurt had to navigate his way around and/or through.

When he turned into the next hallway, a familiar and unfriendly voice reached his ears. Catching sight of the asshole that caused all of this in first place, Kurt froze. Homeroom was only a couple of doors away but that idiot was walking towards him, or at least, in his direction, hopefully he hadn't been spotted yet. Keeping his head down, Kurt tried to blend in with the people standing at their lockers, passing by closely. He'd rather a few strange looks from people he's never spoken to than-

"Hey Fairy, thought you could avoid me forever huh?" Kurt looked up a David Karofsky. He straightened up the best he could preparing for the harsh cold of lockers to hit his back. "What? Got nothing to say anymore?" Karofsky raised his hand and for the first time, Kurt actually thought he was going to punch him. The hand landed on his left shoulder and shoved him into the people behind him. Kurt stumbled, muttering apologies to the girl he'd knocked into while watching Karofsky leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was another three days before Blaine was able to arrange another meeting with Mr. Hummel. The day he'd gone out to Lima to meet him, Blaine had returned to the office getting worried and apologetic looks from Santana. Blaine's face fell almost immediately upon seeing his friend. Since he wasn't hired at the firm to take cases, Blaine could get into a lot of trouble from his father. He was perfectly capable of course but James took pride in restricting his son's life. A lifetime spent being forced into law and being expected to join Anderson & Smythe, Blaine was sure, was not about having a successful son, but about having control over him.

Minutes after getting back behind his desk that afternoon, Blaine's office phone rang followed by a blunt request that he see James in his office. Putting away the file he now had for the Hummel case, Blaine slowly made his way back out of his office and down the hall. James told him to close the door once he'd arrived.

"Where have you been all day?" Blaine stood midway between the chairs that were set up for clients and the door, steeling himself against the yelling that was sure to come. "There is work to be done here, Blaine, work that you were hired to do!" Blaine certainly didn't need any reminder of that fact given the pile of of files that had built up on the corner of his desk in just the few hours he was gone.

"I was working-"

"Doing what, exactly? Nothing that you do here requires you to leave your office." Blaine took a deep breath. He had hoped to keep the fact the he was working separately on a case a, well not necessarily a secret, but he didn't quite want it to be common knowledge either.

"I was looking into a case from last week. The client wasn't able to come here so I went to him." Despite his efforts, Blaine's voice gradually got smaller as he spoke.

"What exactly do you think you're doing talking to clients?! That is not your job, Blaine!" James' face was getting more red by the second.

"Technically, he's not a client," Blaine offered carefully, "You turned him away."

"You can't possibly mean that man who let his son be a fag!" Blaine's fists clenched at his sides, "There is no case there! THAT BOY GOT WHAT WAS COMING TO HIM!"

"I think this goes way beyond the boy being gay! What I've heard about his experiences at school! It's terrible-" James scoffed at the rise and defensive tone coming from Blaine.

"Of course you would go after that kid..."

"What is that supposed to mean? That I care about his safety! NO that can't be it. It must be because I'm a fag too, right?" James' eyes got wide at his son's words. Blaine was yelling, surely heard by the others.

"Oh right," Blaine said, "god forbid people know your son is gay."

"You are not allowed to take cases at this firm. End of discussion." Blaine watched as his father so easily dismissed him, going back to his work without a second thought. Blaine turned to leave, heart thudding but not feeling like arguing. Sure, he couldn't take a case in the firm but he was a perfectly capable lawyer. Nothing, not even James Anderson, the best lawyer in Columbus, could stop him from taking a case on his own.