Chapter 14

Thankfully, Mrs Hudson stayed outside; Kurt took a long deep breath as the door closed behind him. The room was filled with the distinct hospital smell and humming and beeping of the machines attached to his father.

Kurt lingered a moment at the door, uncertain whether he really wanted to go any further. His father was lying motionlessly, only the steady sound of the heartbeat monitor proving he was still alive. A lump rose in Kurt's throat; if only he hadn't been such a coward, maybe none of this would have happened… The guilt was almost suffocating.

Tentatively, he made his way to the stool next to the bed and sat down, trying to catch a breath. Tears began flowing down his face, and he didn't even notice. And if he had, he wouldn't have cared. Now he was completely irrelevant; the only person that mattered was the man in the hospital bed, the only family Kurt had left.

It didn't even matter what would happen next. Just as long as he lived.

The room grew darker with each minute, as Kurt sat numbly, thoughtlessly watching the numbers that were his father's pulse on the screen.

Something stirred in his peripheral vision, making him unglue his eyes from the monitor.

'Dad!,' he said in a thick voice, seeing Burt's eyelids fly open.

Burt squinted, trying to make out the figure in the semi-darkness. A mixture of relief, joy and hurt shaped his features as he recognized his son.

'Kurt?'

'It's me, Dad, it's me.' He extended his hand hesitatingly to take his father's. 'I'm so- I'm so sorry, Dad.' A fresh flood of tears streamed down his face.

Burt shook his head infinitesimally in the pillow.

'Shh, kiddo, let's not talk about it now,' he said, his own eyes glassy from tears of relief. 'You're here, right? It's not just some drugs they pumped me full of, right?'

Kurt's quivering lips pulled up at the corners.

'No, Dad, I'm really here.'

With every mile escaping from under the wheels of his Chevy, Blaine's anxiety increased. No conversation with his parents was an easy task, and he really couldn't find another way to explain the situation, but tell the whole truth. After all, what could they do to him? Ground him? As if they ever did that. Transfer him back to a public school? It was improbable for him to go through anything worse than last year, anyway. Take away his car? He barely drove it at all… But that would keep him away from Kurt. Fuck.

By the time he pulled up in the driveway, he had decided to be one hundred per cent honest. No matter what the consequences were to be, there was no other option.

Blaine opened the front door and found his parents standing in the hall in identical positions, with their arms folded on their chests and menacing expressions on their faces.

'We'd like an explanation,' said Mr Anderson sternly.

Blaine nodded, taking his coat off and throwing it onto one of the hooks in the wall. Without speaking, he went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water.

'So? Will you tell us what the hell that was?,' his mother demanded, as he sipped his water, facing away from them.

Very slowly, he turned around to them.

'I will.' He paused, wondering how to start his explanations. 'I let Kurt stay here, because he ran away from home and needed help.'

Mrs Anderson's eyes bulged.

'And you thought it was a good idea to house a runaway? Did you think what his parents would feel? Apparently not, since I gather his father is in the hospital.'

Blaine bit his lip. There was a grain of truth in what she was saying, but something much different than agreement forced his way out of his mouth.

'How would you know what a runaway's parent might feel? You don't even know what being a real parent feels like,' he said coldly.

His words were like a slap to her.

'Watch your mouth, young man!,' Mr Anderson cut in.

'Whatever.' Blaine shrugged.

'And how did you meet that boy, exactly?,' his mother asked in a weak voice, trying to compose herself.

Lying about that didn't make much sense either.

'I was walking home from school and I met him at a bus stop. So I told him to come home with me.'

Shock and rage were struggling for dominance in Mr Anderson's face. Mrs Anderson was simply dumbstruck.

'You let a complete stranger live in our house?!,' Mr Anderson boomed. 'Have you lost your goddamn mind?!'

Blaine sighed; the conversation was taking the exact turn he'd expected.

'Apparently. Because I'm telling you all this.'

'Blaine, what if he robbed us? Or killed us in our sleep?,' his mother asked. 'Did you even consider this?'

'Actually, I did. But he seemed honest – which he is, by the way – so don't get so worked up about it.'

He started towards the dining room, trying to get away before they managed to stop him.

'Don't get worked up?,' exclaimed Mrs Anderson. 'And maybe we're supposed to thank you for letting some vagrant stay here? He didn't turn out to be a criminal, but what if he did?'

Blaine turned around, rolling his eyes.

'Right, maybe then you would've noticed. Because some of your precious things would be missing.' He paused, watching their expressions, as they turned from a shocked rage to something similar to embarrassment. 'You can say whatever you want, but those two weeks, for the first time in my life I felt like I had a family.'

With that, he ran upstairs, leaving his parents in a very heavy silence.