Kurt pulled into Blaine's driveway and turned off the engine once he had parked. He checked himself in his rear-view mirror, adjusting a few hairs and ensuring he looked as good as he could. Kurt then straightened out his clothes, looking down and hoping his selection looked alright. He didn't want to come in his Dalton blazer, but didn't want to make it look like Blaine wasn't his first priority this weekend either, so he came in his uniform but without the blazer and changed his tie to something more subdued - after all, he knew Blaine liked it when he was dressed up formally, and he really, really, wanted to make sure he made things right with Blaine. Once he made things right, then he could deal with the feelings of love he had for Blaine. He needed to make sure they could still at least be friends.

Okay Kurt. You can do this.

He got out of the car and went up to door, about to knock but then seeing it was already open a crack. He pushed the door open and peeked inside. "Hello?"

Nothing.

He stepped in and closed the door behind him. "Blaine? Mrs. Anderson?"

Nothing.

He took a few more steps in. If they weren't home, then why was the door open? Maybe they were somewhere in this quiet house and had difficult time getting to the door or they didn't even hear it.

"Well, well, well... if it ain't Blaine's little bottom... or maybe you're the top and my son is even more of a faggot than I thought possible?"

Kurt felt a jolt run up his spine and he spun around, seeing Blaine's father leaning against the now closed front doorway, a bottle in his hand which he was now taking a large swig frown, his eyes on Kurt the entire time. His hair was slicked against his head - from sweat or something else, he couldn't tell. His suit was all wrinkled, as if he had been sleeping on it prior to Kurt arriving. He must have come from the living room adjoined to the front because that's the only place he could have snuck behind Kurt from.

Kurt took a couple steps back. This was not a safe situation. This was dangerous. He saw what this man had, and could do, to Blaine, and Blaine was a lot tougher and had more experience with protecting himself than Kurt did.

"What?" Anderson swung his arms up in the air, some of the liquid in the bottle splashing over the bottle's edge and around him with the gesture. "Afraid of me?"

"Mr. Anderson. I was just looking for Blaine..." Kurt squeaked out. Another step backwards. He could run if he had to.

"Took his mama out for a doctor appointment... such a good son he is... when he isn't fucking boys up the ass." His words were slurred and he stammered through the insult. Mr. Anderson was drunk. This was even worse than Kurt thought.

"Why ain'tcha talking pretty boy? Or maybe you're just an ugly girl and my son ain't as much as a bugger as I thought." Another splash of the liquid, probably alcohol, fell all around Mr. Anderson as he flailed his arms while he spoke. Why the hell was he blocking the front door?

"Mr. Anderson. I'm not looking for trouble." Kurt lifted up his hands very slowly, palms out, trying to look nonthreatening - which he really wasn't. "I'll just be on my way now if you wouldn't mind moving away from the door."

"Oh fuck. Yah... guess I am blocking the door for you." Mr Anderson noted, but didn't move, holding his gaze on Kurt. The same dangerous twinkle in Blaine's eyes when he was about to freak out was apparent in Mr. Anderson's eyes right now. Kurt's heart was hitting his ribs increasingly hard.

"If Blaine's not here I have no reason to be here. Just let me pass please." Kurt backed up another step even though he wanted to be going the other way. He needed to put space between himself and Mr. Anderson.

"Ooo... such manners. Please, you say... please..." It looked like Mr. Anderson was going to step to the side and let him pass and Kurt all too briefly felt a bit of relief. Too briefly, because in the next instant, Mr. Anderson smashed the bottle against the door, making a spray of liquid and glass shards around him and then holding the jagged, broken end of the bottle in Kurt's direction while Kurt was still cowering in place from the shock of the sound the bottle had made against the door.

"How about you PLEASE fucking explain to me how my life is shit?! Huh?" Mr. Anderson started advancing on Kurt, holding out that dripping, broken bottle before him as a threat towards Kurt who stumbled backwards.

"Mr. Anderson! Just let me go!" Kurt yelled, tucking his chin in and pulling his arms to his side as he backed up into the wall. Shit. He should have been looking for where to go.

"Go? Why? Is it going to make things better? Will my wife get her vision back? Will my parents stop calling me a fuck up? Will my son put his dick into a girl? Huh?" Kurt looked frantically from side to side, looking for an escape route. Nothing was obvious, so he tucked his car key between the fingers of his fist - the only weapon he could really think of to use if it came to it.

Meanwhile Mr. Anderson had gotten up close to Kurt, still aimlessly thrusting the bottle around as he yelled, more and more incoherently. It was when the bottle came dangerously close to swiping across Kurt's brow that Kurt dashed his keyed fist out, snagging it against Mr. Anderson's wrist. The bottle dropped, shattering completely on the marble floor, and Kurt didn't even want to think about looking to see if any of the shards had gotten on him, his adrenaline shooting through his system, telling him to make a run for it while he had the chance.

And that's just what Kurt tried to do, ducking and running under Mr. Anderson's arm as he screamed and pulled his hand up to the air, screaming in agony as the blood sprinkled through the air like a red rain shower.

But Mr. Anderson's other arm reached out and grabbed the cuff of Kurt's shirt, yanking him back roughly, Kurt wailing in surprise, his balance lost. He struggled to pull away, but the awkwardness of the position he was in, and the panic in his mind had him at a loss for being able to coordinate himself to do anything about the situation he was in.

Kurt twisted then, trying to pull himself out of the grasp, turning himself on his ass to face Mr. Anderson. That was a mistake, because the next thing Kurt knew he had a fist in his face, and, oh god, a punch to the face was a hundred times worse than being shoved into a locker. His vision blurred in front of him and he felt himself slumping down.

Then, a string of words - at least he thought they were words... he wasn't sure about anything in that moment - and Kurt heard a thump and a second thump, the second one was much closer and Kurt looked in surprise at the floor beside him to see Mr. Anderson laying there beside him, eyes shut.

"Oh god..." Kurt whimpered and slid himself backwards, looking up to see Blaine's grandmother above him, holding what looked like a trophy up above her head and babbling in a consistent stream of whatever language it was she spoke - Kurt had never had the exact one verified.

She looked down at him with those small, steely eyes, said something to him he couldn't understand, and then dropped the trophy in her hand, stepping over Mr. Anderson and kneeling down beside Kurt and babbling again to him. He looked to her, putting a hand up on the eye he could feel swelling on his face, damn it hurt, and looking then to Mr. Anderson. Please don't let him be dead... I can't deal with that.

Another stream of unfamiliar words came at him and he looked back to Blaine's grandmother who was trying to ask him something or tell him something.

"I... thanks... sorry..." He mumbled, looking at her out of his still good eye in confusion. His heart was still beating like crazy, and his mind was still running too fast for him to catch up with it.

All he knew was that he had just been attacked by Blaine's dad... and saved by Blaine's grandmother.

"Yes ma'am... thank you." Kurt was at the hospital, speaking with two officers about what had occurred an hour earlier. His dad was at his side, arms folded over in what Kurt knew was his way of keeping in the anger he was feeling.

"Alright. We'll be in touch Mr. Hummel." One of the officers flipped their notebook closed while the other tipped his hat to both of the Hummel boys as they left. Just as they were going through the door of the examination room, Blaine pushed his way in past them.

"Kurt!"

Kurt looked up with the eye that didn't have an icepack held against it to see the boy rush in and towards him. Burt took a step forward, clearly feeling protective in this moment, but Kurt looked over to his father and gave his head a small shake. His head, that felt like the worst migraine in the world was throwing a party in it.

Blaine paused in a couple feet away though regardless, eyes looking over Kurt as if to make sure that really was him. Kurt was sure he must look like hell right now, and definitely not himself. Blaine on the other hand was actually looking good aside from the look of fright and worry causing his face to crease up, dressed in a polo shirt and in untorn jeans.

"It's alright dad... Blaine... I'm okay."

His dad shuffled for a moment beside his bed and then announced that he was going to go get a drink of water, leaving the two boys in peace.

"Kurt... Kurt... oh god." Blaine closed the space between them with a couple unsure steps, kneeling down in front of Kurt and looking up at his face. "I'm so sorry..."

Kurt tried to bring up a smile, but winced when the attempt pushed up the muscles that were aching below his eye. "It's alright. It wasn't your fault."

"But... it was because of me... and... Kurt. Fuck." Blaine looked down and to the ground, guilt webbing over his features.

"Blaine..." Kurt cooed softly, moving his free hand to the underside of Blaine's chin to force Blaine to look back to him. "He did it. Not you, and I'm alright... I'm alright."

For the first time, Kurt was seeing tears in Blaine's eyes, tears that he was desperately trying to hide from Kurt as he kept turning his head away and Kurt kept turning it back with his hand cupped on Blaine's chin.

"You didn't do it. He did." Kurt reinforced.

"But... you wouldn't have even been there if it wasn't for me and I wasn't there..."

"Blaine." Kurt interrupted, waiting until Blaine had his eyes locked on him. "It wasn't your fault. Look at me and tell me you know that."

Blaine hesitated for a second, eyes darting all over Kurt's face before he finally whispered, "It's not my fault."

Kurt smiled again, forcing it up regardless of how much his cheek ached in doing it. "I'm sorry... about last week, about what I said. I didn't have any right to get mad at you... and the belt... I love it. Thank you."

Blaine made a little choked chuckle, giving his head a little disbelieving shake. "Just like that huh? God Kurt, as if it even matters now. I'm just happy my grandmom knocked him out."

"How is he?" Kurt asked. The last thing he wanted to be involved in would be an investigation into someone's death on top of this.

"Fuck if I know or care... mom went to check on him. I came straight here. I know he's alive and all... don't really want him to be after this." The instant Blaine started thinking about his father, the tears in his eyes seem to be swallowed into his lids and the flames of anger glinted in his eyes.

"Blaine... you need to know. I am going to press charges."

Blaine went silent, and looked back away.

"I know you won't... and that's your choice, but no matter how little you think of yourself and your right to be who you are, he shouldn't be allowed to get away with doing that to you... and if that means I have this opportunity to get him away from you, I'm going to take it."

Please let him understand.

"Okay Kurt..."

Blaine looked back to Kurt and nodded once to reaffirm what he had just said. "Alright."

"I was worried you'd be upset with me for doing it..."

Blaine made a small chuckle and shook his head, "No... I get it, and I appreciate it. Not a neanderthal right? I just... I feel guilty now for not doing it before because then you wouldn't have had to gone through this."

Kurt let Blaine's chin go, and patted Blaine's shoulder with that hand. "It's alright. I'm fine. It was bloody scary at the time, not going to lie, but I don't think I'll have any long term trauma anymore than I have from Karofsky... I just want things to be right between us again."

Blaine groaned, rolled his eyes and shook his head, "You dummy. Of course we're alright."

"Good... because I have no idea how to deal with a shiner and I might need you to help me apply makeup to cover it up."

Apart from very nearly getting cut up and killed by his friend's father, it actually was a good weekend. Blaine stayed over at the Hudson-Hummel house, insisting on helping Kurt with everything until Kurt had to snap at him that, yes, he was quite capable of going to the bathroom himself and it was just a black eye so please back off.

They watched movies and sang along with their favourite songs. Blaine played video games with Finn while Kurt baked with Carol until Blaine burst into the kitchen announcing that he had "Fucked up the noobs!" - whatever that meant. On Sunday, the officers in charge of the case came to interview Kurt again, and, after a lot of pushing, Blaine as well.

Kurt restated the story again, not missing Blaine flinch uncomfortably throughout or his dad folding his arms across his chest again. Sometimes the men in his life were just brutes. Then it was Blaine's turn.

Blaine admitted that his father had used him as a punching sack on more than one occasion, that it had started a few years ago when his dad had started drinking more after his mom lost her eyesight and Blaine had come out as gay.

"Can you tell us what would set him off? Some examples?" One of the officers queried.

"Well... mostly it was because I like cock." Blaine said plainly, catching Kurt's scolding eyes as he said it.

"But... he was also sensitive about money."

"Can you give us a specific example?"

Blaine squirmed in his spot, gave Kurt an apologetic glance and then spoke, "When my mom's auto bill was paid for by a friend... he got upset... said we didn't need anyone giving us charity."

Kurt's hands snapped to his now open mouth. Oh no. He had been responsible for the way Blaine had come to school after he had paid the transmission bill.

Blaine looked again to Kurt, communicating his apology through his eyes. Kurt knew Blaine must have kept it to himself to keep from making Kurt feel guilty, but that actually made it all worse. He allowed Kurt to pay his bill because he didn't want to hurt Kurt's feelings even though that meant he would get hurt himself.

The officers seemed oblivious to the interaction between the boys as one continued to write, while the other continued questioning.

"Why didn't your mother stop these incidences of abuse?"

"Well.. for one, she can't see. Secondly, my grandmom holds her back when she has tried."

"And why does your grandmom hold her back from helping her grandson?"

"Because she's protecting her blind daughter, and because my grandmom doesn't like that I'm gay either..." Blaine grumbled, then looked over at Kurt. "I don't know that my dad would have ever outright killed me... but he might have gone to that point with Kurt which is why she probably interfered then... I don't know. My grandmom doesn't really have anything good to say to me usually and I haven't talked to her since before this all happened."

Kurt frowned. He never did understand what Blaine's grandmother was saying, but he didn't realize it was bad either. He felt like a fool for not noticing any of the cues that might have told him their relationship was also rocky, and for thinking he might need to give Blaine's grandmother a medal after she had saved him.

"Alright..." The speaking officer looked over the notes the writing officer had done up. "Well, for Kurt it's a pretty clear case of a hate crime and child abuse since he's under the age of majority. For Blaine, it will likely be child abuse as well, though we will be getting a statement from your mother, and also your grandmother once we find a legal interpreter for Tagalog."

Blaine and Kurt nodded as the officers stood up and shook all their hands in turns, once again promising to be in touch before they left the house with an escort out from Burt. Kurt immediately went to Blaine's side and gave him a hug, "I'm so proud of you... and sorry I caused you to get hurt that one time."

"Kurt... look at me."

Kurt pulled back and looked at Blaine intently.

"Repeat after me. It's not my fault."

Kurt smiled, recalling their reunion at the hospital. "It's not my fault."

"Good. Now let's get the fucking popcorn and watch some fucking Dreamgirls already. I need to wail with Effie."

Kurt laughed and stood up, going to the kitchen to make the popcorn while Blaine went about putting Dreamgirls on. How could things be so right after being so wrong?