Part 1: Chapter 3- Make Me A Bird

"Daddy, stop it!" Blaine cried and ducked, missing his father's hand by inches.

"I told you you were in trouble!" John bellowed and reached to grab Blaine by the arm, pulling his hand back to swat him hard on the back of the thigh.

"I'm sorry, Daddy! I had to tell Kurt something!"

John shoved the little boy into the side of his bed and growled. "I don't give a shit what you had to do! You disobeyed me!"

Blaine trembled and shrank to the floor, covering his eyes and trying to pretend he wasn't there.

"You stay up here until your mother gets home. Don't even think about coming out of this room or talking outta the window to that little fairy, you got it?"

John stumbled out of the room and slammed the door, causing a picture of Blaine and his family to fall off the wall by the doorframe. Blaine buried his head in his knees and cried as quietly as he could, mindlessly rubbing his arm where his father had grabbed him. He didn't know why he was in trouble or what he did to make his father so angry at him. His mother was going to be so upset with him, whatever it was.

After a while, Blaine lifted his little head, wiping the tears off his face with the back of his hand, and stood up to grab Kurt's doll from his nightstand. He hadn't returned it to Kurt yet. He liked sleeping with it because it made him feel safe. Blaine curled up into a tiny ball on his bed, the doll held tight in his arms, and sniffled against the doll's brown hair. It still smelled like apples and if he closed his eyes, he could pretend that Kurt was there and they were playing together, smiling and laughing and running around playing chase.

Suddenly, Blaine remembered his father's words. He had called Kurt a fairy. Blaine knew what fairies were- small creatures with wings that lived in made up stories. Why would his father call Kurt a fairy? He said it so angrily and with so much hate that Blaine knew it wasn't something good and it made him cry even more.

Jeanette came home and his father's raised voice reached him from downstairs. They were arguing. Blaine squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to block out the shouting match, but his mother's sweet voice always broke through to him and he couldn't push it away.

"He's just a little boy, John!"

"He's fucking stubborn! And I don't want him running around with that little faggot-

There was another name. Why did he keep calling Kurt names? Blaine listened to his mother defending herself but the crack of skin on skin contact and a shriek was the last straw for Blaine. He hopped up out of the bed and ran out of the room, down the stairs and into the kitchen where his mother was clutching her cheek and his father was towering over her, a beer clutched in his fist.

"Daddy, stop!" Blaine begged and punched at his father's legs, his face wet with tears.

"Why you little-" John started at him, but Jeanette ran over and scooped him up, carrying him back upstairs to his room.

"Blaine, sweetie, he told you to stay up here," she said shakily.

"He hit you," Blaine whimpered, clutching his mother's shirt.

"He's just having a hard time. The war was hard on him, honey," she shut his bedroom door and started to change him into his pajamas. Blaine looked down at his arm when her back was turned and saw a hand-shaped bruise forming around his upper arm. Jeanette caught it as well, stopping in her tracks with his pajamas in hand.

"Blaine," she breathed out, her voice thick with tears. Shaking her head, she pulled the little boy in for a hug.

"Momma, what's a faggot?"

Jeanette tensed and held Blaine out at arm's length.

"It's nothing, sweetie."

"Daddy said it. Was he talking about Kurt?"

"It doesn't matter. It's not true, ok?"

"But what is it-"

"Blaine, stop it," she demanded and he immediately closed his lips tight. "I'm sorry, sweetie," she said with a tear slipping down her cheek. "I didn't mean to get mad...I'll have Ella bring you up a sandwich before she leaves."

She finished changing him and quickly headed to the door.

"Momma?"

She stilled, her hand on the knob. Without turning to look at him, hiding her tears, she answered, "Yes, baby?"

"Does Daddy not like me anymore?"

Jeanette bit her lip, trying not to cry out loud. "Daddy loves you, Blaine. Always remember that."

She let out a shaky breath and left the room and her heartbroken son.

"Did you ever find out what you did?" Kurt asked a week later, the next time he was actually allowed to play with Blaine. Blaine's father had turned Kurt away each day he came after that first one and that day he finally let Blaine come outside, a smile on his face and his strong hand patting Blaine on the back and telling him to be good for Ella. They were back at the river sitting cross-legged on the ground and tossing pebbles into the water.

"Nuh uh," Blaine answered, flicking a pebble toward a stump near the edge. "He just said I wouldn't listen to him."

"About what?"

Blaine shrugged and sighed. "Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"If it's ok with my Momma and Daddy, do you wanna spend the night?"

Kurt furrowed his brow in question. "Sure. I've never spent the night anywhere before, though."

"It's real fun," Blaine finally smiled. "We can make s'mores and play games and maybe make a tent in my room. It'll be great."

Kurt smiled. "Ok. I'll ask my daddy when he comes home. Maybe someday you can come stay at my house, too."

Blaine nodded. Kurt looked out over the water and Blaine continued to stare at the side of his face. Everytime Blaine thought about Kurt, he pictured an angel- much like the one in his kid Bible with the warm, rosy cheeks and the pale skin.

"You know...you look like an angel," Blaine finally said, making Kurt look back at him quickly.

"What?"

"I have this kid Bible at home with a picture of an angel in it...you kinda look like it," Blaine blushed a little, his ears going hot when Kurt smiled at him.

"Really?"

Blaine nodded.

Ella had been watching from the top of the hill on her blanket. She had heard their conversation and couldn't fight a smile. Blaine was a special little boy to her and she knew he was gonna be different from the rest of the world. Ella knew that Blaine liked Kurt before Blaine even knew it was something that could be and her heart swelled a little when she looked at Kurt and saw that he was not afraid or disgusted by what Blaine said. He was blushing and smiling. Maybe Kurt would be different, too.

It took convincing, but Blaine finally talked his parents into letting Kurt stay over, much to the dismay of his father. After mumbling something about getting a drink, he left for town just before Ella made them potatoes and porchops for dinner. The boys giddily ran upstairs and began construction on the sheet tent while Jeanette and Ella made them some s'mores and milk.

Ella heard the door shut upstairs and turned to Jeanette, who was heating some chocolate bark over the stove.

"Mrs. Anderson...can I talk to you about something?"

"Sure, Ella," Jeanette smiled. Ella took off her apron and leaned against the counter next to her.

"I noticed somethin' today while the boys were playin' by the river...the way Blaine was lookin' and Kurt."

Jeanette laughed lightly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Mrs. Anderson...I think Blaine might like Kurt like he's supposed to like girls."

Jeanette dropped the chocolate bark on the stove. "What?"

"It's the damndest thing," Ella shook her head. "He told the boy he looked like an angel."

Jeanette quickly scooped up the chocolate and hurried over to the sink to wash her hand. "Ella, he's just being polite."

"Do he blush when he's bein' polite to everyone else?" Ella asked, placing a hand on her hip.

"Hush, Ella, you know that's not natural. How could you accuse my six year old of being a homosexual?"

"I didn't say that, now," Ella looked affronted. "And so what if he was?"

"It's not right," Jeanette whispered, leaning in for only Ella to hear. "You know what God said about the homosexuals, Ella."

"An abomination, mam, I remember. I ain't sayin' he is or ain't. I'm just telling you what I saw..."

Jeanette let the conversation die in the air and dropped her finished s'more on the plate to take upstairs. When she reached Blaine's door, she saw their outlines through the makeshift sheet tent they had thrown over some chairs and larger toys in Blaine's room. She didn't announce her presence right away, however.

"Are you really gonna move away to New York when you grow up?" Blaine asked Kurt, sounding sad.

"Yeah...but that's a long time from now. I'm not gonna leave yet."

"Good," Blaine giggled. Jeanette noticed something- just barely, however- when Blaine shifted. The boys were holding hands.

She cleared her throat loudly and they climbed out. "Oooh, thank you, Momma!" Blaine smiled and ran forward to get one. She smiled warily at him and placed them on the desk.

"If you boys need anything, let me know..." she said before trying to hurry out of the room.

"You wanna play with us, Momma? We're camping-"

"No, no, sweetie, I have to finish dishes," she gave him one last look and walked out of the room. When she was out of earshot she leaned against the wall,
unable to even say the word in her head. He was only a child- six years old- and she could easily chalk it up to his precociousness and manners, but the burning feeling in her stomach told her that wasn't the case.

Blaine's eternal soul wasn't exactly the first thing she was worried about, however. When she heard the door slam downstairs and heard John slurring curses at Ella, she knew that his eternal soul would have to get through his father first.

Kurt started at the sound of glass breaking downstairs. John's raised voice carried up through the closed door of Blaine's room.

"Blaine," Kurt whispered, shaking his friend awake next to him. Blaine mumbled in his sleep and pulled his stuffed rabbit closer.

"Blaine, your daddy's yelling at your momma," Kurt shook him again. Blaine sat up and, suddenly wide awake, ran to his door and threw it open. Kurt sat staring into the lit hallway as he heard Blaine's little raspy voice calling to his daddy.

"You're not gonna be a faggot, do you hear me?" John yelled and Kurt heard Blaine cry out. He was about to jump up out of the bed when he heard little footsteps running up the stairs and saw Blaine's outline slam and lock the bedroom door.

"Blaine?"

Blaine dove into the bed and curled up on the pillow, his body shaking and sniffles coming from the pillow.

"Blaine, what's wrong?" Kurt put a hand on Blaine's shoulder and a boom came from the door.

"Let me in, Blaine, I mean it!"

Kurt did the only thing that ever made him feel better when he was scared- he lay down next to Blaine and wrapped his arms around him tight, pulling him close. Blaine clung to Kurt's t-shirt. The wetness from his tears soaked into Kurt's shirt.

"It's ok, Blaine, I'm here," Kurt whispered into Blaine's curls and hugged his friend tight. Kurt almost cried at the sound of Blaine's scared whimpers. John continuously banged on the door until, finally, Jeanette came up and dragged him away from the door. They continued to fight into the night while Kurt held Blaine close. He stopped crying after a while and sat up, sniffling and holding his rabbit under his chin. In the moonlight, Kurt could just see the inflamed mark across Blaine's cheek.

"Did he hit you?"

Blaine nodded and buried his nose in the rabbit's ears. Kurt had never felt so mad in his life. He wanted to go down there and hit him back for hitting Blaine, but he was scared of John.

"Kurt?"

Blaine's voice was small and broken from the crying.

"Yeah, Blaine?"

"Can you promise me something?"

Kurt inched closer to Blaine. "Yeah."

"Promise that someday, you and me will go away. So far away that I never have to see my daddy again..."

Kurt's eyes burned with tears. Blaine leaned his head on Kurt's shoulder, his curls tickling Kurt's cheek. "Promise?"

Kurt nodded. "I promise."