I was always amazed by how calm my father was during emergencies. The way he never panicked and always was there to comfort and console, or the way he always knew exactly the right thing to do. It was a trait that I really wish I had. I have a tendency to panic...

Which is why I was really glad when it was my dad to greet Blaine when he showed up at our door, soaking wet with both rain and blood.

Upon coming home, I had gone directly up to my room and collapsed on my bed, choking on my strangled sobs. As clich� as it sounds, I really didn't have any other choice. My feelings were completely overwhelming me and I was simply terrified for the future. Blaine's father was apparently abusive, and he'd been hiding it. For how long, I had to wonder? He'd never spoken much about his dad. I knew that they were never really close and that he didn't really approve of Blaine being gay, but I never would have thought that he was...

The tears were free flowing and I almost forgot that I wasn't the only one at home. The last think I wanted was Finn or my dad walking in on me like this. I was a wreck. They would ask me questions that I wouldn't know the answers to or that I had promised Blaine I wouldn't tell. I frantically wiped my eyes free of my tears and tried to pull myself together, just in time, because there was a knock at my door.

"Kurt? Blaine is here," my dad's voice called from the other side of the door. My breathing hitched the second I heard Blaine's name. He was here! But that must mean that something happened. I began to panic, my mind jumping to all sorts of conclusions way too fast.

"Blaine?" my voice came out cracked as I rushed to the door, breezing past my father as I made my way down the stairs, frantically looking around for a sign of my boyfriend. "Blaine?"

I was nothing less than shocked when I found him laying on the sofa, Carole dabbing his red and purple and blue dotted forehead with nurturing care.

"He's resting now, sweetie. I'm pretty sure he just fell asleep. He wouldn't tell us what happened, but I'm sure he will tell you when he wakes up," Carole said, looking at me sadly. I approached and dropped to my knees next to Blaine. He looked so... broken. I sobbed again, not bothering to hold it back this time.

"It's all my fault. If I hadn't left him there-" Carole stopped me, rubbing my back with a touch of motherly care that I had missed. It shocked me, but really only for a moment.

"Kurt, sweetie. It's not your fault. It's nobody's fault."

"It's his father's fault! His father did this to him!" I cried, overwhelmed. I realized what I had said just barely a second after I said it, and Blaine's eyes shot open in terror. My heart dropped down into my stomach as Carole's face softened in realization, and my father tensed from behind the couch.

The silence was killing me. Quite literally. It felt like someone was ripping out my throat with chopsticks then dousing it with sea salt. Not a good feeling, basically.

"Blaine, sweetie, is that true?" Carole asked slowly, carefully. I stood up and backed away slowly, each step deliberate and heavy. Blaine's face looked panicked. Oh, God, what had I done?

"Kid, you have to tell us. We want you to be safe," my dad pitched in. I continued backing up, afraid to make eye contact with Blaine. I promised him I wouldn't tell anyone, and now Blaine witnessed me letting it slip in my panic.

His damaged face began to be streaked with tears, and with all the courage he could muster, I watched my boyfriend give my parents two solid nods. I almost smiled. I was kind of proud of him for even revealing that much to my parents. I knew it wasn't something he wanted to do. He knew the consequences, which would surely come into play soon.

"Did you know about this, Kurt?" my father asked solemnly.

"I... I did. Not until today but I promised Blaine I wouldn't say-"

"Blaine, you know we have to call the police?" his voice was stern, but caring in the weirdest way possible. Blaine attempted to sit up a little too quickly. I watched as his eyes started to roll back and he plopped back on to the couch. He was in such an awful condition, I could barely watch him struggle like this.

"No," his voice was soft, cracked, and just weak. "No, don't. He will kill me when he finds out. He will kill Kurt, too. He said he would."

"Honey, the police won't let him. They will get to him before he can lay a finger on you, or Kurt," Carole said, stroking Blaine's curls to calm him down. I almost yelled at her, because hey, that's my job, and those are my curls, but I knew that Carole was just trying to help Blaine. But I wanted to help Blaine too. He was my boyfriend. I loved him more than anything in the whole world, so I should be the one helping him.

"No, you don't know my dad," Blaine's eyes were wide in terror, his face stretching the scars in the worst way possible. He was in a lot of pain; I could see it in his eyes. "He's stronger than all of them. And more clever, too. He'd be able to hunt me down in a heartbeat if he knew I'd called the police."

"We'd be there to protect you, kid. We won't have you living with someone who does that to you. Where is your mother?"

"She's away for work 90% of the time. I don't think she knows about my father. Whenever she's gone my dad drinks... He's normally sober when she's around."

"Okay, sweetie. We're going to call the police. We'll tell them everything and we'll make sure you and Kurt are safe, okay?" Carole stood up and walked towards my dad. Again, Blaine nodded. Carole smiled sadly and walked into the kitchen with dad, leaving Blaine and I in the room alone. I knew we had to talk, and I was terrified. I thought Blaine was going to be angry with me and that he would break up with me and really, I don't know how I would have survived if that had happened. So I was glad things went down like they did.

"Thank you, Kurt."

"I'm so sorry, Blaine. I didn't mean to say it. But things will be better now, I promise," I rejoined him, kneeling again beside the couch. I found his fingers, which I was shocked to see were shaking violently, and intertwined them with mine. I gave them a comforting squeeze, and he calmed down slightly.

"Don't be sorry, Kurt. I know it's going to get better, but I am scared. I don't want my dad..." he trailed off, and I stroked his forehead carefully, trying not to irritate any of his cuts or bruises.

"I know, sweetie. Dad and Carole will take care of things. You'll be safe, I promise," Blaine's expression darkened, and he looked at me with his sad, hazel eyes.

"Don't promise things like that, Kurt. You never know with my dad."

"I do know that we are together. I know that we are going to be protected in the best way possible. With our love. It's like in Harry Potter. You showed me how he lived even though Lord Voldemort-" Blaine's eyes widened in panic and I laughed lightly. "I'm sorry. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did that killing curse-"

"Avada kadavra," Blaine added casually. I laughed again.

"Yeah, that one. You are a dork," I playfully tapped his nose. He smiled, which made me grin, because hey, I got him to smile after all of the awful stuff that when on this week. "Like I was saying, you are protected like that. You have people who love you and care for you, and they would never let anything like that happen to you, okay?"

"I like it when you use Harry Potter analogies. You should do it more often. I'll probably understand things better," he smiled at me again, and I laughed.

"Love you, Blaine."

"Love you, too, Kurt."