When Blaine left Kurt's house, he felt almost guilty about leaving the boy alone. But he had plans to see his family – his family who hadn't seen him in three years.

Kurt had thanked him, for both being there for him and for watching out for him like Finn asked. He didn't want Finn to have to worry about him with everything else that would be on his mind.

He did a quick MapQuest of where Cooper's house was, sighing in relief when it only turned out to be fifteen minutes away by foot.

Grabbing his uniform, he thanked Kurt again for the food and clothes, giving him a soft smile as he closed the door behind him.

A fifteen minute walk usually wouldn't be any sort of hardship for Blaine, who had spent the last three years trekking long distances and carrying pounds of equipment.

But it was kind of strenuous with an arm in a sling, but it was infinitely more peaceful than any kind of walking he'd done while oversees.

He'd promised Kurt that he would see him soon, Blaine shoving his hand into his pants pocket and feeling the slip of paper with Kurt's phone number on it, reassuring himself that it was still there.

He was glad Finn Hudson had run into him at the airport, that he had trusted him enough to tell a complete stranger to watch out for his brother.

Kurt was different. Blaine had never met anyone like him before. He was spunky and feisty, but he showed signs of wear and tear, of having gone through so much more than his 22 years of life should have endured.

They hadn't talked about any of that, mainly just about Finn and war, Blaine trying to reassure Kurt that Finn would be fine and that he would come back. But it did make him feel guilty. He couldn't promise anything like that. He'd seen countless men die – men with families, men with homes and wives and children, men who had something to go home for.

There were never any guarantees.

But, like Blaine had told him, Finn was up for training for the first few months, no real combat actually involved until they passed the weeks upon weeks of strenuous training.

Blaine remembered that all too clearly. He remembered sitting in his bunk at night, willing his exhausted body to go to sleep when it just wouldn't, when he knew he was going to be woken up in a mere two hours. He remembered listening to the younger soldiers sob, the ones who, like him, had been drafted at 18.

He remembered himself almost crying, just barely being able to pull himself together. But, unlike the other boys, he didn't cry because he missed his family and was scared. He just cried because he was scared.

Sure, he had missed Cooper, and he was worried about his mom. But they didn't need him. He was actually surprised when his mother had shown the signs of mourning and weeping that she did when he got his letter of service. Ever since he came out to his parents, it seemed as if they wanted nothing to do with him.

Blaine only hoped that this dinner would be difference, that maybe the three years they spent apart would make his parents see him differently, maybe the three years of constant worry would have sparked some kind of love and affection into them.

As he neared his brother's house, Blaine was mentally preparing himself for the worst. He knew that they wouldn't yell at him or anything, after all, he was 99% sure Cooper had told him he'd been shot. His mother would coo over him, ask him if he was okay, brush the hair out of his eyes.

But his father – there was no way of ever knowing what he was going to do or how he was going to react. For all Blaine knew, he would somehow make the fact that he'd been shot Blaine's fault.

"You should have been more careful," he could hear his father saying.

"Maybe if you had been paying more attention during your training, that wouldn't have happened."

"If you were faster…"

"If your shoulders weren't so broad…"

"If your height didn't make you such an easy target…"

"They could probably smell that you were gay."

Those ones had always been the worst – when his father would blame every bad thing that happened in his life on the fact that Blaine was gay.

He didn't know what to expect, but, nearing the front door of his brother's house, he knew he was about to find out.

Knocking on the door with his good arm, Blaine stood there and waited patiently for someone to answer the door.

Vanessa's face appeared, her smile breaking out in a grin. Blaine had always like Vanessa. He and Cooper had been high school sweethearts, meeting Cooper's freshman year and not getting their acts together for two years.

They'd gotten engaged a mere six months before Blaine was drafted, Blaine, at the time, promising to be Cooper's best man.

That was the one promise he hadn't kept. And he regretted it completely. But by the time it came around and he was given the opportunity for a three week leave, Blaine didn't want to take it. He didn't want to go back to Ohio and become attached again, didn't want to have to deal with everyone's somberness when he left.

So he stayed. It was just easier.

"Blaine," Vanessa breathed, grabbing his good arm and dragging him into the house. Her slim arms wrapped around him, her hands forcing his head into her shoulder as she gently smoothed down his already growing hair.

Something else he missed while at war – his hair.

"Oh my god, Blaine," Vanessa said when she pulled away, tears glittering in her eyes as she smiled at him. "Look at you. You're all grown up."

Blaine smiled and nodded, ducking his head a bit. "It has been three years," he said.

"Three years too long."

Blaine sighed and looked up at her. "I – I'm sorry about the wedding," he said softly. "I just – I couldn't come back."

"I know, Blaine," she whispered. "I understand."

She brushed the bangs out of his eyes, her own wandering down to his shoulder. "H-How is it?" She stammered. "Coop said that – that you were shot?"

Blaine nodded stiffly. "The reason for my discharge," he said slowly. "They don't want a guy who can't hold a gun."

He saw Vanessa swallow a lump in her throat before she dragged him into the dining room.

"Cooper," Vanessa said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Blaine's here."

Blaine's eyes wandered over to where Vanessa was talking, feeling his body start to shake a little as he watched his brother turn in his chair slowly.

And then Cooper was running at him, throwing his arms around his torso and sobbing into Blaine's shoulder.

"Blaine," he sobbed. "I – You're actually here."

"Yeah, Coop," Blaine soothed, rubbing his brother's back gently with his hand. "I am."

Cooper continued to sob, his grip on Blaine tightening. "I never should have let you go," he murmured once he pulled away. "I should have stopped you or - or offered to go in your place."

Blaine laughed a little, a few tears streaming out of his own eyes. "I don't think it works like that, Coop," he said. "It's not like the Hunger Games."

Cooper laughed at Blaine's reference to what Blaine knew was his favorite book series.

"When you called," Cooper said after a moment. "And the number wasn't one I recognized I – I thought it was someone calling to tell me that you were dead."

"Coop –" Blaine started, but his brother went on.

"And then – and then it was you," he said. "It was your voice, telling me you werehome for good."

The two brothers just stared at each other then, only moving when Vanessa walked back into the room with her hands full of platters of food.

"Mom should be here shortly," Cooper said once the three of them were seated at the table. But there was something off about his expression, the way he wouldn't meet Blaine's eyes.

"And Dad?"

"He told her he didn't want to come."

Blaine nodded and took a deep breath, trying to control himself. He reassured himself that it was better his father wasn't coming, that everything would be so much more peaceful without him there.

"I'm sorry, Blaine," Cooper whispered after a few minutes of silence. "I – I thought he might come around."

"It's fine," Blaine said stiffly, his expression emotionless, like he'd been trained.

He saw Cooper give Vanessa an anxious look, the two of them striking up a different conversation.

The doorbell rang then, Cooper abruptly standing up to go let their mother in then.

Blaine stood up, straightening the t-shirt Kurt had lent him and adjusting his sling a bit.

And then his mother came into view, her eyes lighting up as she saw Blaine.

"Blaine," she breathed. "My boy."

Being gone three years may have not changed things with his father, but it definitely changed things with his mother.

"My baby," she whispered as she came closer, stopping a few feet away. "You're all grown up."

And then Blaine was launching himself into his mother's arms, his good arm wrapping itself around her neck as the tears leaked out of his eyes and out onto her shoulder. He ignored the pain coming from his other shoulder, focusing on his mother and the reality that he was here, that he was home, in his mother's arms.

"It's okay, baby," she cooed in his ear. "You're home now. You're safe."

Blaine stayed wrapped up in his mother's arms for a while longer, feeling his hair become damp from his mother's tears.

"I missed you, Mom," he choked out. "I missed you."

"I know, honey," she cooed. "I know."

This was why Blaine hadn't come back. This would have happened every time. He would have run into his mother or brother's arms and cried, and then have to leave again in a few days' time.

But right now, he didn't. He was there for good. And it was definitely worth the wait.

"I brought your car," she said. "Cooper's going to drive me home, and Vanessa said you can stay here until you can get a place of your own."

Blaine nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his mother's cheek before pulling away. Her eyes widened as she saw his arm in the sling, her fingers soothing over the wound gently. "I still can't believe my baby was shot," she whispered.

"I'm okay, Mom," he replied, grabbing her hands in his own, knowing she was surprised at how rough they felt. "It could have been a lot worse. And now I don't have to go back."

"You should probably have the doctor's check it out," she said after a moment.

"I know," Blaine replied. "I'm okay. Really."

She nodded and wiped the tears away from her eyes, Vanessa and Cooper coming back into the room at that moment.

"Blaine," she said before they went and sat down.

Blaine turned towards his mother again, her expression remorseful and sympathetic.

"I'm sorry about your father," she whispered. "I tried to get him to come, but…"

"It's okay," he replied, his voice stiff and taught. "I didn't expect him to want to come, anyway."

"I – I just wish that –"

"I know, Mom," he said. "I know. I do too."