"Hey Dad." Kurt hedged, trying not to look too guilty.

"Kurt, just because I didn't explicitly say that Blaine isn't allowed to sleep in your bed doesn't mean that Blaine is allowed to sleep in your bed." Burt frowned, "This afternoon we'll get the air mattress down from the attic and one of you can sleep on that. Now you guys need to get up, we're leaving to get Blaine's stuff in abut an hour and I know how long it takes for you to get ready."

Burt left the room swiftly, shutting the door behind him and Kurt sighed, poking Blaine in the shoulder.

"Hrmph." Was Blaine's muffled reply as he buried his face further into Kurt's chest.

"Come on Blaine, we have to go get the rest of your stuff." Kurt shook Blaine gently, getting rougher when the other boy didn't respond.

"You're dad can go, we should just stay here all day." As tempted as Kurt was by that offer, he knew he couldn't send his dad there alone.

"No, he can't. C'mon, we need to get ready. I have my whole skin care routine." Blaine groaned as Kurt shimmied out of the bed, his grasping arms too slow with sleep to catch him.

It took Kurt a whole fifteen minutes to get Blaine out of bad, and that, combined with the time it had taken for Kurt to get ready, only left Blaine five minutes before they left. He rushed around while Kurt looked on in amusement and as they descended the stairs, Kurt brushed his hand through Blaine's curls.

"You know, I like it when you don't slick back your hair, it's awesome!"

Blaine chuckled and they pulled on their shoes before joining Burt in the car.

As they pulled up to the Anderson house Kurt had a flashback to yesterday. Blaine was sitting next to him, twisting his fingers and bouncing his knee restlessly in exactly the same way, but Kurt didn't feel quite as nervous. For one thing, they had Burt with them, and for another, they were only here to get Blaine's stuff, they didn't even have to look at Mr Anderson if they didn't want to.

They had brought a suitcase with them to put Blaine's stuff in so they would be quicker, and as they dragged it up the garden path, Kurt laid a comforting hand on Blaine's arm. They shared a brief look before Burt knocked on the door and it swung wide to reveal Blaine's parents.

"Oh Blainey!" A short woman with Blaine's curly hair cried out when she saw him, and Kurt assumed she was Blaine's mum. "You came back!" She stepped aside and ushered them all into the house, throwing her arms around Blaine's neck when he passed her.

Blaine shot Kurt a deeply uncomfortable look, so Kurt tugged on his dad's arm, indicating that he should be the one to explain the situation.

"No, sorry Mrs Anderson. We just came here to get the rest of Blaine's things; he's going to be staying at our house now."

Mrs Anderson looked mildly confused as she released Blaine, who hurried up to his bedroom with Kurt right behind him.

"And who exactly are you to decide where my son lives?" Mr Anderson stepped forward, puffing up his chest and curling his hands into fists.

"I'm Burt Hummel." Burt smirked, completely unaffected by the show of dominance. "Kurt's dad. And I didn't appreciate coming home yesterday to find my son with a huge bruise on his face."

"I've never heard su-"

"I'm assuming your husband told you about what Blaine said," Burt cut across, turning to Mrs Anderson, "but did you tell you that he hit my son?"

"Well, if he lost his temper I'm sure there was just caus-"

"So I figure," Burt continued, cutting across again. "if he's alright with beating up some one else's kid, he won't have any problem knocking his own around a bit. Now tell me, would you encourage Blaine to move back home?"

"Well Blaine should live with his parents, it's where he belongs." Mrs Anderson was on the defensive now, avoiding eye contact and casting furtive glances at he husband.

"Oh, so you think hitting your kid is okay?" Burt stared incredulously at the woman, as if she had grown a second head.

"Under certain circumstances, you have to take drastic measures."

"And being gay is a bad enough circumstance is it?"

"Your son was being an insubordinate little brat, and I felt it was prudent to put him in his place." Mr Anderson hissed, a vein beginning to throb in his temple.

"Oh? And what would his place be Mr Anderson?" There was a calm sort of fury in Burt's voice as he stepped closer to Blaine's father, his hands becoming fists of their own accord.

"If someone chooses to be gay then they should be prepared to become a lower member of society than those of us who make the right choice." Both men were practically snarling by now, getting right in each others faces.

"You asshole!" Burt growled, pulling back his fist, about to let it snap forward when there was a cry from the stairs.

"Dad!" Kurt leapt down the last few steps, rushing over to his father and pulling him back before shoving him in the direction of the door. "Go wait in the car." His voice was high with stress and he turned to help Blaine get the case down to the ground level, as Burt hovered in the doorway.

"Please Blaine!" Mrs Anderson cried as they passed, causing Blaine to hesitate.

"I'm sorry mum." He turned slightly, not meeting his mother's eye. "Not for being gay, I'm proud of who I am, but for leaving. I just can't live in a house I'm not welcome in."

Mrs Anderson nudged her husband in the side before pulling out a handkerchief to dab at her tears. He coughed before speaking in a forced tone.

"Of course you're welcome here Blaine, this is your home. We'll get you through this phase and you'll meet a lovely young lady and then join me at the firm."

Blaine growled in frustration, dropping the case and throwing his hands up.

"Don't you get it Dad?" He yelled, visibly shaking as the suppressed rage of 16 years rushed to the surface. "It's not just a phase. I am GAY! I love Kurt and I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I am NOT going to meet some girl and magically become straight, I tried making out with Rachel, and guess what! It didn't work! Also, I don't want to be a business man! I don't want to join you in the firm! The moment I graduate I am leaving for New York and I am NEVER COMING BACK! And if you have a problem with any of that then you can just take it and SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!" Picking up the suitcase again he grabbed a thoroughly shell-shocked Kurt surprisingly gently and stormed out the door, leaving Burt the privilege of slamming it shut in his parent's faces.

When they reached the car, Burt took the suitcase and put it in the boot, giving Kurt just enough time to push Blaine up against the side of the car and attack his mouth. When they broke apart, both were panting heavily.

"God, you're sexy when you're angry." Kurt murmured, his eyes burning into Blaine's as they calmed down.

"And you're fucking sexy when you're turned on." Blaine whispered in Kurt's ear, laughing as he heard the taller boy's breath cut off. He slid out from Kurt's arms, pulling open the car door and bowing lowly. "After you your Highness." He joked, climbing in after his boyfriend and claiming his hand with both of his own. He felt a kind of lightness, like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest, and it left him feeling kind of giddy.

The two boys grinned at each other as the car sped off, not even bothering to spare a last look back at the house filled with Blaine's bad memories.

#####

Mr Anderson sat at his desk, grumbling under his breath, trying again to read the page in front of him but failing to take in a single word. It had been four hours since that man had taken away his son and he was still fuming. First that stupid effeminate homo had somehow convinced his son to become gay, and now the kid's father had practically kidnapped him.

He made a noise of frustration, slamming his fists down on the desk and leaning back in his chair. He had one son. That was it. His one chance at a legacy and it had been ruined, all because he had raised an attention-seeking faggot.

The sound of the doorbell brought him back to his surroundings and he leapt out of his chair. Throwing himself down the hallway he prayed that it was somehow Blaine, coming crawling back and begging for forgiveness. He met his wife at the door and they stood side-by-side as he pulled it open.

It wasn't Blaine. Nor was it any of the Hummels. It was plump woman who must have been in her thirties, clutching a thick folder to her chest.

"Mr and Mrs Anderson?" She enquired, smiling tersely. "May I come in?"

Mr Anderson frowned at his wife, stepping aside and gesturing for the woman to follow him into the front room.

"How can I help you?" Mr Anderson sat with his wife on the sofa, indicating the armchair to his left for the woman.

"My name is Theresa Rowan. You're son has declared that he wants to be legally emancipated from you and I have come to talk to you about where you stand in the situation." She set her folder down on the glass table before her, rifling through the papers inside as Mr and Mrs Anderson stared at her in shock.

"You can't be serious!" Mr Anderson exclaimed, frowning at Theresa.

"Oh, I would never joke about emancipation, it is a very serious matter. Now I understand that this is a shock to you but I have spent the morning talking with your son and he seems pretty set on it. I would like to hear your side of the story before we decide how to proceed."

Fabulous, just fucking fabulous! Mr Anderson shook his head, wondering how much of the story this woman already knew. If it got out that he had hit a minor his career would be over.

"Well, it's quite simple really." He began, trying his best to be tactful. "Our son made a life choice that we don't agree with-"

"To be gay, you mean?" Theresa interrupted, scribbling down his words on a pad of paper.

"Yes, that." Mr Anderson replied through clenched teeth. "Anyway, he blew the whole thing out of proportion and now he's just acting out for attention."

"Okay. I got the impression from him that it was you who erm... 'blew the whole thing out of proportion'." She quoted, reading off her note pad.

"I may have reacted slightly rashly out of shock, but it was a big revelation, and he allowed me no time to adjust."

Theresa nodded as she took it all in, searching through her folder for more papers.

"I tried to persuade your son to meet with you but for some reason he seems to think that his safety, and that of his boyfriend, would be in jeopardy" she glanced between the two adults before her almost fearfully, before continuing, "so he declined; which really only leaves us with two options. The first of which is you signing these papers and relinquishing your authority over your son."

"Oh no, John do something!" Mrs Anderson wailed, clutching her husband's arm as her eyes glistened with tears.

Mr Anderson studied Theresa briefly before turning to the papers before him. Glancing over them he saw Blaine's signature, so unlike his own in everyway but for the surname.

"And if we refuse to sign?" He sighed, not looking up.

"Then there will be a court hearing and a judge will decide what is best for your son."

John Anderson sighed again, rubbing his hands over his face. He couldn't let this get to court. If it got that far, not only would it be really bad publicity for him, but Blaine would tell the judge about what had happened in his study when he had found out, and he could end up in prison for that. It was the difference between his and Blaine's handwriting that really solidified his resolve. It was already so easy for him to believe that this boy was not his son, and never was. And if he was perfectly honest, he never wanted to see Blaine's homo face ever again in his life. He could already feel the satisfaction he would get from burning the photos, the only evidence left of his disappointment of a child.

With a sense of vindication he pulled the papers towards him and scribbled his signature.

"Fine," he growled, "if the Hummels think he's so great, they can have him."

Ignoring his wife's horrified face, he basked in the feeling that he had finally cut off a dead weight from his life.

#####

Blaine sat up quickly, panting and feeling thoroughly shaken. He glanced around, panic-stricken until he remembered where he was and why he was there. Looking to his right, he could just make out the lump up on the bed that was Kurt and it calmed him immensely to know that his boyfriend was mere feet away.

He rubbed his hands across his face to banish the last remnants of the nightmare. No, it was worse than a nightmare, it was a memory. His chest constricted as he recalled the feel of the blows to his stomach and the sound of jeering laughter, before he pushed both back down into the recesses of his mind. It wasn't working though. The recent trouble with his dad had broken some sort of mental block, and the memories were rushing forward. He groaned as his stomach twisted, gaze flailing around the room, searching for anything that could replace the horror he was trapped in. Although it gave him a strange sense of contentment to see his and Kurt's stuff all jumbled together in one room, it wasn't until his eyes fell on Kurt that he knew how to fix all his problems. His memories with Kurt were like a guiding beacon in the darkness that had filled his mind, and he followed them as he pushed off his duvet and crawled in to Kurt's bed.

"Mm, hi." Kurt whispered sleepily as he felt Blaine's arms pull him close. He rolled over slowly, searching blindly till his lips found Blaine's face, but frowning when he felt the wetness of tears there. Kurt wrenched open his eyes, staring deeply into Blaine's. "Hey," he whispered, "what's wrong?"

Instead of answering, Blaine hugged Kurt tighter to his chest, moving forward for a long, slow kiss.

"Nothing. " He murmured when he pulled back, both of them already half-asleep. "Just a nightmare, it was all just a nightmare."

And as Blaine lost consciousness he realised that all those memories and bad experiences were just nightmares, and he could finally let them go.