As Blaine drove back to his house he thought to himself, “Going home is the last thing I need right now. My house is one of tension, anger and unhappiness. I had my fair share of all those things over the last couple days, thank you very much! On the other hand, I also had more than my share of happiness, love, and acceptance as well. That’s what the Hudson-Hummel home means to me. Love. Acceptance. Home. Kurt is my future now. Kurt is my family. I just want to get back there as soon as possible.”

He let himself into his house, but he was greeted with a stony silence. His mother must have been out. However, the house was so big that they could be in different rooms and not even notice that there was anyone else there. For the most part, that was a good thing, but it could get pretty lonely at times. Blaine shrugged, relieved that he didn’t have to interact with anyone in his family that day. He would just get his list of errands, complete them, and go back to his boyfriend.

He was thinking of taking Kurt to the most expensive restaurant in the city. He made a mental note to call the restaurant to make a reservation. Maybe then he would take the opportunity to talk to Kurt about the potential marriage thing. Where better than a romantic restaurant to talk about their future together?

He went to the kitchen and saw the small list his mother made for him sitting on the counter. There was no greeting, no thanks, just a list. Getting the dry-cleaning, picking up some groceries for a party they were throwing, and doing some banking were a few of the tasks set for him. All very mundane things, but Blaine noticed the lack of personal touch. It made him angry and just a little sad. When Kurt got notes from his parents, there was always a thank you, or a love you, or even a little smiley face. Why couldn’t Blaine have that? How hard was it to draw a goddamn smiley face?

Blaine realized that the errands weren’t going to do themselves, so he stuffed the list in his pocket and made his way to the front door. At the last minute he decided to go up to his room to grab a few more clothes for Kurt’s place. He had to do laundry, but for now, he would just bring new clothes from his house. He noticed that he never called the Andersons’ place home anymore, just “his house.”

If Blaine had decided to leave instead of going upstairs, the rest of his day would have transpired very differently. Sadly, it didn’t.

He climbed the spiral staircase to his room. He knew that his parents were very well off – strike that, they were rich – but that didn’t mean that he was. He tried to be as humble as possible, even though his father had tried to stuff his wealth and influence down Blaine’s throat as much as possible. He was literally counting the days before he was able to move to New York to be with Kurt. He even had a countdown calendar on his phone. After that, he would cut all ties with his parents. He was done being one of the illustrious Andersons, because illustrious they were not.

Blaine walked into his room and was shocked to see his father sitting on his bed with a book on his lap. At first he was confused, as he didn’t expect his father to be home at all. He had thought that his father was going to be gone for the majority of the summer, actually. Thank god for small miracles! He had a big contract overseas, and traveling home would be challenging. With his father being away, it gave Blaine much more freedom to live his life.

“Oh! Dad, hi! I didn’t know you were home!” Blaine said nervously. Suddenly he put on a big smile. It was time to sport his Warblers performance face.

“I have an event to attend tonight that I just couldn’t miss. You know how important connections are, Blaine,” Anderson advised.

“Of course,” Blaine agreed. “Well, it’s nice to see you, but Mom asked me to do some errands so I better get going.” He was lying through his teeth because he hated his father, hated his family and hated everything that they represented. He loved Cooper, but that relationship was tenuous at best, and he was never around. Since Blaine had planned on moving to the East Coast and Cooper lived in LA, he didn’t think he would be seeing his brother again anytime soon. He wondered why his father was in his room, and why was he holding a book. It looked so familiar.

“Blaine, wait! There’s something we need to talk about,” Anderson called as Blaine left the room.

“Oh god, what did I do now?” Blaine thought to himself with a silent groan. “What chore did I mess up, or how did I embarrass him this time? God, I hate him! I just want to go home… I mean to Kurt’s. This bullshit is totally not what I need right now.”

Blaine rolled his eyes and turned to his father with a fake smile. “What is it, Dad?” he asked with a false cheerfulness. It was best to be cheerful because anything else would be interpreted as backtalk.

“I came up to talk to you, so color me surprised when you weren’t home,” Anderson started. “Your mother says you haven’t been home in almost a week. Where have you been?”

“I’m surprised she even noticed,” Blaine muttered under his breath.

“What did you say?” Anderson demanded. Blaine felt a flash of fear that he had angered his father.

“No… nothing! I was just over at Kurt’s house,” he stammered. “He was having some personal issues, and I was helping him. That’s what best friends do, right?” He didn’t tell his dad that they were dating. Well, that wasn’t totally the truth. He said they had dated but decided to only be friends so they could concentrate on their studies and the glee club.

Anderson stood up, still holding the book as he said, “Blaine, don’t lie to me! I know full well that you’re dating that boy. What did I say about not dating anyone while you were in school? At least that sorry excuse for a public school and that stupid glee club!”

Blaine’s eyes flashed with anger as he said with a raised voice, “Those guys are my friends! You have no right talking about them that way!” Screw it and screw him! He was done walking on eggshells around his father!

“Just like you had no right to leave Dalton against our wishes? That school would have set you up for life. Now I doubt I’d be able to get you back in because you left on dishonest terms,” Anderson spat.

Blaine’s chin came up defiantly, not unlike when he and Kurt had their fight at the school. “I don’t want to go back to Dalton! I love McKinley, and my friends there are my family! We have people there of all types, as opposed to all the rich spoiled boys at Dalton. Diversity, Dad! You might want to look in the dictionary to see what it means.”

“You had friends at Dalton. That’s not a nice way to talk about them,” Anderson countered, ignoring Blaine’s rudeness.

Blaine’s voice was getting louder and louder. This was the person he really should have unloaded on, not Kurt. There was no turning back now, and Blaine knew he was going to regret it later, but it made him feel better directing his anger to the one who deserved it. “Right, and how many of them actually call me?” he yelled bitterly. “When Sebastian practically blinded me, how many of them visited me at the hospital or at home? Not one! But surprise, surprise! Just about every one of my glee friends dropped in to keep me company.”

“Your mother and I think that you shouldn’t be associating with that type of people,” Anderson stated and crossed his arms.

“That type of people? That type of people?! Dad, what in the hell are you talking about? You mean poor people, don’t you?” Blaine demanded.

“You said it, I didn’t,” Anderson said smugly.

“Wow! This is amazing. If you actually paid attention to my life you would see that was totally not the case. One of my friends? Her dad is a dentist and other one has a doctor for a father. And my boyfriend – yes, he’s my boyfriend and I don’t give a flying crap what you think – his dad is the freakin’ congressman of this district! My best friend’s fathers were world famous singers. So don’t you DARE say that my friends are any less than they are! Even the ones who come from lower income families are more than you’ll EVER be!” Blaine yelled. “I don’t care what their parents do. That’s not who they are, and that’s not who I am. I look at people’s hearts, not their bank accounts. To me, my friends are everything.” He was starting to lose steam and he just wanted to get out of there. He was done.

Anderson looked at Blaine coolly, letting him rant. None of it mattered anyway. “Are you done taking your temper tantrum, young man?” he patronized.

Blaine crossed his arms and said, “No, not really. I have lots to say to you, Dad. But I’m not wasting my energy.”

“Fine,” he said as if his son didn’t just tell him off. “I wanted to talk to you about this.” He held up the book. Blaine wondered why that book was so familiar looking… oh no!!!

“I was looking for some paperwork in your room and I came across this book… this… diary is it?” Anderson asked, turning the book over in his hands.

“That’s my private property!” Blaine said, trying to grab the book from his father’s hands. Anderson just held it away.

“Blaine, there’s something you need to learn. NOTHING in this house is your property. This is my house and everything you have, I have given to you,” Anderson said. “I have never made you work a day in your life, and you have wanted for nothing. But make no mistake, it’s all mine.”

Blaine just stared at his father as he continued, “As I’ve said before, you’re an ungrateful bastard who doesn’t appreciate anything your mother and I gave you.”

“You’ve given me shit,” Blaine sneered. He didn’t care about his father’s reaction. “Yeah, you’ve given me material things, but I would trade every single thing for a real mom and dad. My boyfriend’s parents are better parents to me than you are!”

“Blaine, you’re nothing but an inconvenience and a disappointment. I had so many hopes for you. Then you told me you liked boys and things went to hell,” Anderson stated simply and stood up. “When will you accept that we never wanted you? You were a mistake.” He had just shattered his son’s heart, but he didn’t care. He continued, “So, back to this book of yours. I decided to take a look through it.”

“You had no right!” Blaine exclaimed. He was still reeling from his father’s speech about not wanting him. He heard that from his mother all the time, but this was the first time that he had heard it from his father.

“No matter,” Anderson interrupted. “I was looking through it and I found this interesting little passage. Shall I read it?”

“Please, no!” Blaine asked desperately. This was going downhill fast.

“Too bad,” Anderson said haughtily. He took out his reading glasses and opened the book and read in a mocking sing song voice, “Kurt just graduated today. I’m so proud of him! Then he’ll go to NYADA and make his dreams come true! I love him so much. I’m counting down the days when I can get out of this goddamned house and away from my evil father and neglecting mother. Kurt and I figured out the long distance thing, but maybe I should consider moving to New York with him in the fall. I can finish high school through correspondence, at least till I turn 18 in a few months. Then I can enroll in a school there. The sooner I get away from the Andersons, the better. I don’t even want their last name. I think of myself as a Hudson-Hummel now.”

“I was just angry,” Blaine lied. He wasn’t angry at all when he wrote that passage. He was telling the truth.

He started to get scared. No one was supposed to see that! He didn’t even show Kurt his diary. It was where he put his deepest secrets and feelings. His father reading what he wrote was the deepest betrayal.

“Shut up, Blaine,” Anderson said angrily. “So after everything we gave you, you’re just going to leave us like that? To disown us?”

“I thought you didn’t care whether I existed,” Blaine said with a shaky voice. He could see his father’s eyes. They were angry eyes; they were scary eyes.

Anderson closed the book and handed it back to Blaine. The flash in his eyes disappeared. Blaine gave a sigh of relief as he wouldn’t get hurt, at least not today. “Fine. If you want to get away from us, we would be happy to oblige. After talking to your mother, we have decided it would be best to enroll you into military school next year. In fact, there’s a summer program and we’ll be sending you to that as well. It starts in a week. I suggest you say goodbye to your… friends and boyfriend now. Maybe this will teach you some respect and actually make a man out of you.” He said the words “friends and boyfriend” like he had smelled something rotten.

Blaine thought back to the conversation he had with Finn about the military. He didn’t want to enroll because he was a pacifist, and that wasn’t his path. His path was helping people, not potentially hurting people. Yes, the military was very important, and they did protect, but the thought of holding a gun to do so terrified him. “No,” he whispered.

“I’m afraid you don’t have a say in the matter. We can talk about this later, although there really isn’t anything to discuss. You’re going. I need to get ready for that event and you’re wasting my time,” Anderson dismissed. He looked at Blaine and said mockingly, “Buck up, soldier! You’ll thank me when you’re older.” With an evil smile he left the room.

Blaine sat on the bed, looking down at the book in his hands. He was in shock. This was the worst thing that could possibly ever happen to him. He pulled out his phone and sent a text:

Babe, are you there?

He waited a few minutes, but there was no response. Kurt must have been busy with something. Maybe he had decided to go to the mall with the girls after all.

Blaine was lost. What was he going to do? There was no way he was going to New Mexico. There was only one thing he could do. He went to his closet and grabbed his large duffel bag. He would pack and go to Kurt’s, at least until he could figure out where to go next. Maybe they could leave together and go to another city like Kurt had suggested the day before. Right now leaving Lima seemed like a great idea.

He went to his closet and grabbed as many clothes as he could stuff in his bag. It didn’t matter if they matched. Kurt would help him accessorize properly. He grabbed his socks, underwear, and several of his bowties. He also packed a couple pairs of shoes and a pair of sneakers. He had his own bathroom, so he stuffed his toiletry bag with whatever he could fit. He was in a hurry, and needed to get out of there as soon as possible.

He returned to his room and put the toiletry bag in the duffel. Then he took his backpack and put his diary and laptop in it along with his prom pictures in the frame on his desk. Anything else he would buy himself later; he had some money in the bank, after all. He put the backpack on his shoulder and grabbed the duffel bag.

“Oh, and one other thing. I meant to tell you that you’re no longer allowed to see that boy again,” Anderson said as he walked into Blaine’s bedroom. He wasn’t paying attention as he was buttoning up his dress shirt. He looked up and saw that Blaine was weighed down with bags. “Going somewhere?” he asked casually. Stupid boy. No one ever left Anderson unless he decided to let them go. And if his associates found out that his son ran away? He would never live it down. No, this just wouldn’t do.

“I’m done with both of you. There’s no way you can make me go to military school unless I want to go. And you can’t tell me who I can date. I love Kurt, and we’re going to be together for a very long time, maybe forever, whether you like it or not,” Blaine practically screamed.

“Oh please!” Anderson scoffed. “A stupid gay boy’s high school crush. You know he’ll leave you as soon as he moves to New York for that faggy theater school.” Blaine’s head snapped around and he scowled at this father. “See? I listen.”

“Faggy theater school? Oh my god, you’re completely clueless!” Blaine bellowed. “I knew you didn’t approve of my homosexuality. Well, you don’t have to worry about it anymore. Screw you and screw Mom. I’m outta here!”

He pushed past his father but didn’t get very far. His father grabbed his backpack. “Blaine, you do NOT walk away from me when I’m talking to you,” he sneered as he spun his son around. Blaine stood there, not moving and staring his father in the eyes with a defiant glare. He had to stand his ground, to show that his father had no power over him anymore. At least that is what he was revealing on the outside. Internally, he was terrified.

“Dad, I’m not taking your abuse anymore. I’m a good person and I don’t deserve this. I would suggest that you stand aside and let me go. I won’t be a burden on you anymore,” he said calmly, but his voice wavered. He was doing this for Kurt. He was going to get out of there and go to Kurt and they would live happily ever after, right?

Anderson got in his son’s face and said, “You call my punishments abuse? It’s only what you deserve, son.”

“I’m no longer your son,” Blaine yelled and pushed his father away, trying to pass him to go down the stairs. “Just leave me alone!”

“No one leaves unless I tell them to!” Anderson screamed and grabbed the bag again. This time he practically dragged Blaine back into his room. Blaine stumbled and fell onto his bed, falling backwards. “Remember I said the next time you disobeyed me, the punishment would be ten times worse? I’m afraid this is the time.”

“Dad, no, please! I’m sorry. I won’t leave, I promise. Just please don’t hurt me!” Blaine begged. He took off his bag and put it on the floor beside the bed. He stood up and backed himself into a corner. “Just fight, Blaine! Hit him! Kick him! Do whatever you need to and get out of there!” he thought to himself. The manic look in his father’s eyes scared the hell out of him. “Oh my god, he wants to kill me!” he added frantically.

Blaine cowered in the corner as his father’s shadow descended upon him, ready to give Blaine the punishment Anderson claimed he deserved. “Kurt, please help!” he thought, desperately trying to send his cry for help telepathically. It was the only thing he could do.

******

While Blaine was away doing his errands, at least as far as everyone else knew, the Hudson-Hummels, along with Rachel and Sam, were finishing up brunch. Kurt knew the talk was coming and tried to avoid it by offering to help clean up. His father shook his head and pointed to the family room.

A million thoughts ran through Kurt’s head. What he dreaded the most, though, was known as “The Lecture.” Usually, the talks with his dad were great and he enjoyed them immensely, but not “The Lecture.” That type of conversation was to be feared and rightly so.

“I’m going to tell Dad that I …” he thought to himself. What was he going to tell his dad? That he was changing who he was? That he was nothing but a Lima Loser now? That he was stuck here and had to work in his dad’s shop for the rest of his life? That didn’t seem fair at all. His dad had worked at Hummel Tire and Lube and didn’t consider himself to be a Lima Loser. Perhaps he’d better think of a better phrase. His dad might not take kindly to that. “God, this is so frustrating!”

His dad took one look at him and said, “Ok, so I’m going to start with the most obvious. Kurt, what did you do with your hair?” Finn and Sam were in the room watching the game and Rachel had volunteered to step in for Kurt in kitchen cleaning duty. Finn didn’t want to be witness to this conversation so he made a lame excuse and returned to the kitchen. Sam excused himself to his room.

Kurt cast his eyes downward and mumbled, “I changed it.” 

Burt responded, “I can see that. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking it was time for a change. I didn’t get into NYADA, Dad,” Kurt tried to explain as he glanced up at his father. Maybe Burt would feel sorry for him and forget that the past week had ever happened.

Burt crossed his arms. Kurt could tell he wasn’t buying it. There wasn’t much sympathy coming from his father for not getting into NYADA. He switched tactics. Perhaps he could go down the feel-sorry-for-me-because-I’m-different route. “I have no idea what I’m going to do next, Dad. I feel so lost. I thought that if I changed myself, I’d fit in better, you know, around here.” Burt just squinted at him in disbelief. Okay, that wasn’t working either. “I was just trying to find myself.”

“By trashing your room?” Burt asked, starting to get upset but reining it in. He could tell that Kurt was in pain, but this talk needed to happen. “By charging up your credit card with more crap?”

 “I have money from Grandma. I’ll pay for it all!” Kurt exclaimed, starting to feel panic set in. Things weren’t going well at all. He tried to stay calm.

“You bet you’ll pay for it all!” Burt replied. “And you went to a gay bar? How in the hell did you get in there? Don’t think for one moment I’m going to let that one slide.”

“I… I…” Kurt started to stutter.

“And don’t think I don’t know about your drinking, Kurt! You’re underage. I’m contacting the state’s liquor licensing board and getting Scandal’s license revoked,” Burt continued.    

“It’s… it’s not their fault, Dad,” Kurt responded, defeated. “Please don’t close them down. I take all the blame. It was my fake ID.”

“And how did you plan to get home?” Burt asked his son.

Oh, crap. He was in real trouble now. “I… I... was going to call a cab?” Kurt said in a small voice as he bit his lip and looked at his dad with his best “I’m a responsible person” eyes.

If his dad had been a cartoon character, his head would have exploded with anger. The look Burt shot at Kurt made him shrink with fear. “Your credit card, Kurt!” Burt demanded.

Kurt slowly reached for his wallet. “This sucks,” he thought to himself as he handed Burt his credit card. Burt walked over to Carole’s knitting basket, picked up her scissors and cut the card up.

That hurt! Kurt hoped that was the end of it and started to leave. He had thought this was just going to be one of those uncomfortable talks. Instead, his father was basically ruining his life by taking away everything that was important to him. “He’s being way too harsh! The punishment DEFINITELY didn’t fit the crime,” Kurt pouted to himself.

“Where are you going? Get back here,” Burt barked. Kurt turned around and faced his dad. He put his hand on his hip and jutted it out. “Quit it with the attitude.” Burt wasn’t putting up with Kurt going all diva. That might have worked with the glee club, but it wasn’t going to fly in this house.

Kurt straightened back up. “I thought that was it,” he said to Burt.

“We’re just getting started,” Burt responded. “You got into that gay bar somehow.”

Kurt sighed, reached back for his wallet and pulled out his Hawaiian fake I.D.

Burt took one look at it and said, “You’ve got to be kidding me!” The I.D. was the next victim of Carole’s scissors.

Kurt crossed his arms, knowing that there was more coming. It didn’t bother him to lose the I.D. It wasn’t that big of a deal to him anyway. The chances of him drinking again in the near future were slim to none.

“Driver’s license, Kurt,” Burt commanded, putting out his hand.

Kurt blanched. “Don’t cut up my driver’s license, Dad! How will I get around? I can’t get to Blaine’s house or the mall without it. They’re too far away!” he cried. Panic set into Kurt’s voice and his pitch rose higher and higher.

“If the cops had caught you drinking and driving, you’d be worrying about a lot more things than driving to the mall,” Burt said and took Kurt’s license. Instead of cutting it up, he put it in his wallet.

Kurt debated on asking how long he would be without his license but decided that it could wait until later. Burt was really pissed right now. There was no point in making him madder.

“Tomorrow you’ll report to the shop at 7:00 AM. You can do oil changes, and you’ll work under Finn,” Burt said as he gestured to the kitchen. Finn must have been eavesdropping because his head peeked around the kitchen doorframe and he looked with wide eyes.

“You’re kidding!” Kurt said, horrified. That was not the plan for this summer. The plan, originally, was to explore New York City with Rachel. Of course, that had changed. But working in his dad’s shop all summer under Finn was not going to happen. He was supposed to manage the place! “I’m not working for him!” He pointed in Finn’s direction. “I’m not changing oil, like a Lima Loser!”

He immediately regretted his choice in words. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean it. Can’t you just ground me to my room or something?” he asked. He knew that he deserved every punishment his father gave him, but he was starting to get a little angry at his father for not showing concern at his issues before blowing his top.

Burt looked at Kurt hard and said, “You’re 18 and it’s time you become a responsible adult. So no, I will not ground you to your room.”

“Okay… I’ll report to the shop at 7:00 AM tomorrow morning,” Kurt said, and then in his best smart-ass voice, asked, “And how am I supposed to get there? Fly?”

“Don’t take that tone with me!” Burt said loudly. “If you were ten years old, I’d take you over my knee and spank the daylights out of you.”

Burt talking about spanking him set off some very unsettling feelings in Kurt, especially after what Blaine had confided about Anderson. However, he knew that Burt would never hit him in anger. A spanking was much different than a beating. All these emotions, worries and punishments were too much. Kurt turned and ran for stairs.

“Kurt, come back here!” his dad yelled after him.

Halfway up the stairs, Kurt turned around and yelled, “Dad, if you actually talked to me before handing out punishments, you might have realized exactly why I did what I did! I’ll take whatever you give me, but I thought we had an open communication sort of relationship. Do you even realize the torture I’ve gone through in the past week? All you see is a trashed room and a different Kurt, but do you care WHY I did it?”

Burt worried that he might have gone a little too far. He knew that Kurt was just trying to find himself. One they both calmed down, maybe he and Kurt could go out, get a coffee and have an adult conversation about what went on in the past week. He was still going to teach Kurt responsibility, but maybe with a less harsh punishment. He was a good kid, after all. He always looked out for the people that he cared about. This was just a brief lack of judgment.

“Look, Dad, I really can’t talk to you right now. I’m angry, and I’ve been having anger management issues recently. I think it’s best if I just went to my room to calm down. So if you would excuse me…” Kurt said, his voice coming down several decibels.

He ran up the rest of the stairs and went straight to his bedroom. He slammed the door and locked it. He sat on the bed and waited. He figured any minute now his dad would climb the stairs and start banging on the door. Then he would remind his dad about his heart troubles, and his dad would calm down and go back to watching his game with Finn.

Five minutes went by and there was no Dad. Then ten minutes. Kurt started getting worried. Had his dad had a heart attack or something? He went over to the door and listened. No frantic voices coming from downstairs. He unlocked the door and tiptoed over to the top the stairs. No, the game was still on and he heard Finn and Burt give a cheer.

Kurt went back to his barren bedroom and sat on the bed. He could wait this out. He spent the next hour waiting, fuming the entire time about having to work under Finn. “That’s so unfair! I’m part owner of the shop and I have to work under someone else? Totally not going to happen! Where the hell is Dad? This is getting boring!” he whined to himself. During the second hour, Kurt had an epiphany. His dad had said that he wasn’t grounded to his room, so why was he sitting here? Well, he couldn’t exactly go anywhere, except maybe to the park. He didn’t have his driver’s license.

Kurt knew what he must do. He had to go downstairs and apologize. Burt had to go back to D.C. in a few days. He hated giving in – he was a stubborn bastard when he wanted to be – but it would be better to face his dad now.

He went back downstairs and peeked in to the family room. Everyone was a watching some junk pickers reality show. “Dad?” he called softly. Burt looked over at Kurt. “Can I talk to you alone?”

Burt got up and followed Kurt to the hall. “I’m sorry, Dad,” Kurt apologized, and Burt could tell that he really meant it. “I’ll stop acting like a brat. I just need to know how I’ll get to work tomorrow.”

“Finn will drive you. You can get your license back next week,” Burt said kindly.

“And my credit card?” asked Kurt hopefully.

“You’re not getting it back,” said Burt firmly.

“What?” Kurt said, looking alarmed at the revelation. “How am I supposed to buy gas or clothes?”

Burt explained, “You have a full time job, Kurt. You’re lucky. In this economy, there are men with families who can’t find work. From now on, you’ll be responsible for your own gas and your own clothes. You’ll start paying for your cell phone. I’ll show you how to apply for your own credit card. I’m selling the Navigator as the insurance premiums are too high for you to afford and buying you a cheaper car.” Kurt started to protest but thought better of it. “And you’ll give your mom $200 a month for room and board. We’ll help you plan out a budget and you’ll learn to live within it.” Unbeknownst to his son, Burt had opened a savings account and had planned on matching dollar for dollar the rent money Kurt gave Carole. It would be a nice nest egg for when his son moved out, whether it was New York or elsewhere.

Kurt was shocked. This was not what he expected. His dad continued, “The day is coming when you’ll want to get your own apartment, Kurt. I want you to be able to step out on your own and be in complete control of your life.” He wasn’t sure if he should be impressed at his father’s foresight or start crying.

“But if I was going to NYADA, I wouldn’t be able to work a full time job.” Kurt responded, confused at his father’s explanation.

“But you aren’t, Kurt. You aren’t going to NYADA and you aren’t going to sit on your butt all day waiting for them to call you to tell you they have changed their minds about you,” Burt said, knowing that it might hurt Kurt’s feelings, but his son needed to hear this.

It did hurt, but Kurt knew it was true. Rachel had taken his spot. Getting mad about it and expecting things to change because he wished for it wasn’t going to happen. Tears started to well up in his eyes. Burt continued, “It’s time to be the grownup, Kurt. I know you can handle it.” He nodded in agreement. His dad got up to go back to the family room. He patted Kurt on the shoulder, leaving him to mull over his new life.

Kurt gave a frustrated sigh. “This was a wonderful cap to a really shitty week. What else was going to go wrong? Murphy’s Law called for it, after all,” he thought bitterly. He decided to wait a bit and talk to his father again. It seemed that Burt still didn’t understand why he was making all these changes. Maybe if his dad understood, he wouldn’t be so hard on him. He also had to tell his father about Blaine.

He returned to his room, the gears turning in his head. While they were on their date, he would ask Blaine to talk to Burt. At the very least, he would try to ask if he could work in the office of the shop. Changing oil was so gross. And working under Finn? How was that going to happen if Finn was going to enroll in the army?

While Kurt was in his room, he noticed that there was a text from Blaine.

Babe, are you there?

“How did I miss that before?” he asked himself. He sent a response:

I’m here. Had a crazy talk with dad. Kill me now. Almost done?

He spent the time waiting for an answer by hanging his clothes up in his closet. 20 minutes passed when he realized that there was still no response. He went to his phone and turned on the screen, making sure he didn’t miss anything. Usually Blaine was so prompt with answering. Maybe he was on the road. Without a second thought Kurt went back to his chore. He had an outfit to pick out for his date, after all!

However, an answer never came… until much later.

******

Blaine was in excruciating pain. He was in so much pain, he could barely move. His father had made good on his promise to punish him tenfold. He had punched him; he had kicked him; he had even pulled out that dreaded belt. Blaine had tried to protect himself by fighting back, but it had only angered his father further. As usual, his mother ignored the screaming above her. She was probably enjoying a pre-party cocktail.

He tried getting up from the floor but he could barely move. It felt like his chest was on fire. He put his hand to his face and came back with a blood smeared mess. He started to panic. His father left him like this, to take care of himself, like nothing had happened. He needed to get help, and soon.

He slowly and agonizingly got to his knees, then using the wall as a prop, stood up. All he had to do was get to his car then he would drive to Kurt’s. Burt would know what to do. Blaine wondered if he was going to die. How could his father do this to him? He knew now that his father didn’t care for him at all, so it made it much easier to get away. He would text Kurt when he got to his car.

As he stood up he wavered a little bit. The pain was so bad that he felt like he was going to pass out. As much pain as he was in, though, he had some things to say to his father, whether he could hear them or not, and he knew the perfect song. Through his haze of pain, he sang:

“I've got my things packed. My favorite pillow.
Got my sleeping bag. Climb out the window.
All the pictures and pain I left behind.
All the freedom and fame I've gotta find.
And I wonder how long it'll take them to notice that I'm gone.
And I wonder how far it'll take me.”

“To run away (Life don't make any sense to me).
Run away (This life makes no sense to me).
Run away (Life don't make any sense to me).
Run away (Life don't make any sense to me).”

He limped to the top of the spiral stairs and looked down to the foyer below. His father and mother were putting on their shoes, getting ready for some socialite event. They were laughing and joking as if their youngest son wasn’t more than likely bleeding to death in a bedroom right above them. As they got ready to leave, Blaine sang angrily:

“I was just trying to be myself.
You go your way I'll meet you in hell.
It's all these secrets that I shouldn't tell I've got to run away.
It's hypocritical of you.
Do as you say not as you do.
I'll never be your perfect boy.
I've got to run away.”

He went back to his room and waited for a few minutes to make sure his parents were gone. At that moment, Blaine decided that the Andersons weren’t his parents anymore. No sane parent would do this do their child. He grabbed his bags, even though it caused him indescribable pain to do so and slowly, very slowly made his way down the stairs as he continued singing:

“I'm too young to be taken seriously.
But I'm too old to believe all this hypocrisy.
And I wonder how long it'll take them to see my bed is made.
And I wonder if I was a mistake.”

Now Blaine knew the answer to that, beyond a shadow of a doubt. He wasn’t meant to exist. And now he was an orphan. He left the house, letting the door lock behind him. As it was habit, he checked to make sure it was locked and turned the knob, leaving a bloody handprint. It was still raining, but not as hard as it had earlier in the day. He didn’t even notice the rain hitting his face. All he cared about was getting to his car. He had to do things one step at a time. Any other way was too much.

He unlocked the doors of his car and threw his bags into the backseat. He got in on the driver’s side and just sat there, not sure what to do. He had to rest, just for one moment. He wasn’t thinking straight. As he tried to figure things out, he sang:

“I might have nowhere left to go, but I know that I cannot go home.
These words are strapped inside my head, tell me to run before I'm dead.
Chase the rainbows in my mind, and I will try to stay alive.
Maybe the world will know one day, why won't you help me run away.”

He pulled out his phone and remembered that he had blood on his hand. He grabbed a tissue and cleaned his hand off, then lifted the phone to call Kurt. He saw some car lights and thought that it might be his parents coming back to finish the job. Remember, Blaine was bordering on delirious at this point.

He would contact Kurt when he was at a safe place, or maybe at the hospital, because that was where he wanted to go. He turned on the gas and carefully drove out of the circular driveway as he sang:

“I could sing for change on a Paris street.
Be a red light dancer in New Orleans.
I could start again. Choose a family.
I could change my name, come and go as I please.
In the dead of night you'll wonder where I've gone.
Wasn't it you, wasn't it you, wasn't it you that made me run away.”

Blaine wasn’t sure where he was going, and the rain on the windshield wasn’t helping his driving which was starting to get erratic. The rain was disorienting him. All he knew was that he had to get somewhere safe. Kurt’s house or the hospital, it didn’t matter.

All of a sudden he felt such intense pain that he could barely breathe. He couldn’t drive like this. Making sure there were no cars coming behind him, he put his signal on and parked at the side of the road. He had no idea where he was, and the rain was obscuring the street signs. He put his parking brake on and leaned the seat back, trying to breathe deep to control the stabbing feeling in his abdomen. The pain wasn’t subsiding and he could hear a grinding sound in his chest. He pulled his phone out and sent a text to Kurt. The text contained four words, but they said enough:

Help…Dad…it hurts.

He put his phone in the cup holder beside him, no longer having any energy to hold it. He was just going to close his eyes for a minute and wait for Kurt to call him. He said a small prayer that he would find the strength to get to safety. Suddenly, all he knew is darkness. He had passed out; the pain had finally overtaken him.

Beside him his phone had started to ring. On the screen was a picture of Kurt giving an air kiss to the camera. Unfortunately, the call remained unanswered. Blaine was out cold, but he was alive.