Kurt and Burt were in the living room when Cooper walked in.

There was nothing said -- the tired, broken expression on the elder Anderson sibling's face spoke volumes.

Without warning, Kurt launched himself off of the couch where he and his father had been sitting, and into his boyfriend's brother's arms.

Cooper felt the tears starting to fall again as his arms closed around the teen.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Kurt --" he sobbed.

Kurt said nothing except,

"She did it."

Cooper knew it wasn't a question, but he couldn't stand to say it out loud. He looked pleadingly at his grandparents.

"We don't know that for sure --" said Colin, "but she's the prime suspect."

Cooper shook his head.

"We all know she did it," he said, voice cracking as he let go of Kurt and looked at the teen's father. "Blaine and I didn't exactly have a happy childhood." he explained. God he hadn't talked about this in years...but he felt the other man needed to know -- he had to understand. "Our mother is mentally unstable. I don't want to go into graphic detail but -- but I was physically abused." he felt Heather's hand wrap around his and squeeze lightly and ignored the horrorstruck, angry expression on Burt's face. "I'd never let her hurt Blaine -- I wouldn't --" he broke off. "This all my fault..."

"You didn't know she'd do this." said Kurt softly.

"That doesn't mean I don't feel guilty, Kurt." Cooper told him. He looked over at Colin. "Do you think she'll hurt him?"

"Coop you saw the blood and the back door -- your guess is as good as mine."

"Blood?!" cried Kurt.

Cooper swore silently and looked at his grandfather.

"You tell him." he said flatly before storming out of the room.

---

"Blaine?"

Blaine cracked an eye open and looked up at his mother. He was now lying on the floor of the hotel room, head propped up on one of the pillows.

"Get the hell away from me." he whispered. Fingers threaded through his curls, gripping them tightly. "Mmph..."

"You're gonna come back to California with me tomorrow night." she said firmly, pulling on his hair hard.

Blaine shook his head frantically.

"N-No. N-No I'm not. I'll never go anywhere with y-you." he said, trying to sound brave. "Never."

Jenna smirked.

"Well squirt, you really don't have much of a choice." she said flatly.

Blaine's stomach lurched at the way she used the nickname. He could stand it when Cooper said it...because, well, it was Cooper. No matter how many times he told his brother to stop, the nickname was still much in use.

When his mother said it it made him feel sick to his stomach.

Jenna watched him for a moment before getting up.

"We'll go shopping later," she said, and he was stunned to hear the cheerful note in her voice. "Get you some new clothes, huh? Well I'm heading out for some dinner -- I'll bring you back something good, okay?"

She waved at him before disappearing out the door.

---

"Cooper come downstairs, your grandma wants you --- oh." Kurt stopped short when he found Cooper slumped over on his bed, a beat up teddy bear in his arms, a photograph clutched in his free hand. "Coop? What's --?"

Cooper said nothing -- he simply held out the photgraph, which Kurt took.

It showed a little boy, no more than five or six with dark curls -- Blaine -- dressed in a clean white t-shirt, jean shorts and tennis shoes. He had a backpack on, and Cooper -- probably at fifteen or sixteen -- donning a black leather jacket over a gray t-shirt and jeans stood next to him outside a large building. Both boys were grinning at the camera. Kurt chuckled slightly when he noted one of Blaine's shoes was untied.

"His first day of Kindergarten," said Cooper. He was staring at the bear in his arms. "He begged me to let him take this with him. I told him that teddy bears were too cool for school -- that they'd already done it. He wanted to know if his bear would care when he came home to tell him all about his first day. I said 'yeah. He'll care.'"

The countertenor sat down on Cooper's mattress and handed the photo back.

"He was adorable." he said fondly. "He still is."

Cooper laughed weakly at that as he pocketed the photograph.

"He is."

"You think he's okay?"

Kurt sighed.

"I...don't know." he admitted. "but he's a fighter...I know that. He'll be okay. We'll find him."

The older man didn't smile.

"And if we don't?"

Kurt didn't answer.