Silence.

Blaine held his breath, waiting for the reply.

“I have no son. You have the wrong number.”

And cue the heartbreak. Blaine gripped the phone tightly, looking over at Kurt. He didn’t know what he expected. He knew his father didn’t care. But…this wasn’t about him right now. Blaine had a job to do. He slipped his hand into Kurt’s and squeezed tightly.

“Look, can we just cut the crap for five minutes? And then I’ll be out of your life again forever and you’ll never have to face that fact that your gay son is a successful actor and musician who already has more love and money than you ever had,” Blaine snapped, feeling his face heat up as he started getting a little angry.

It was silent for another moment before his father replied.

“What is it?”

“It’s Mom,” Blaine said, squeezing Kurt’s hand so tightly now it had to hurt, even though Kurt made no hints that it did.

“What about her? The divorce is nearly finalized. I’m finished with her too.”

Blaine’s jaw clenched and he took a moment to collect his thoughts, attempting to remain civil. “She’s dead. She passed away this morning.”

It was silent again, and this time it really was painful, but then Blaine’s father spoke, and as he did so, his voice broke a bit. “She’s gone? H-how?”

“She had a heart attack,” Blaine said, his eyes glued to Kurt’s face, his only source of comfort and support. He leaned closer, and Kurt slipped an arm around Blaine’s waist, a gesture to show that he wasn’t going anywhere, especially not when Blaine needed support the most. “Look, Dad…Mr. Anderson, whatever the hell you want me to call you, I just figured you’d want to come to the funeral. You were married to her for thirty years.”

It took the other man another minute to respond, in which Blaine swore he could hear quiet crying sounds from the other end of the phone, but he didn’t want to say anything out of uncertainty and a still prominent loathing for the man who’d disowned him.

“When is it?” the man finally asked.

“Next Friday,” answered Blaine.

“And…you’re going?”

“Of course I am. She’s my mother.”

More silence.

“Let me know when and where. I’ll see if I can make it.”

With a raised eyebrow, Blaine replied, “I…I’ve still got to do some setting up, but I’ll call you back when I know more, ok?”

The other man agreed, albeit somewhat reluctantly, and the two hung up. Blaine pocketed his cellphone and took a deep breath, still staring at Kurt, not saying anything.

“Are you ok?” Kurt asked. Blaine cast a glance out the window, then shrugged.

“He’s coming here,” Blaine replied. “He wants to go to the funeral. But I don’t think he wants to see me.”

“Well he’s going to,” Kurt said, stepping closer and pulling Blaine into a tight embrace. “Because you…we are gonna show him how wonderful and successful you are. Make that man proud of his son.”

Blaine pulled back and sighed, biting his lip. “What if I don’t want to be his son, Kurt?”

Kurt shrugged. “That’s your prerogative. But you have a chance to show him, and if he doesn’t respond, he’ll just go back to Ohio. It couldn’t hurt, could it?”

Staring at him for a long time, his golden eyes drilling into Kurt’s, his expression remaining surprisingly stoic, Blaine said nothing. After a period of silence, he leaned forward and pressed a soft, warm kiss to Kurt’s lips, then pulled away.

“It’s been a long day. I’m gonna take a shower and head to bed.” He stepped away, withdrawing from Kurt’s embrace and heading towards the bathroom. The door shut with a click, leaving Kurt looking after it, wondering if he’d said something wrong.

. ~ . ~ .

Episode Twelve: Control
Scene 1

(INT. Courtroom. Darren is sitting beside Bradley. He glances over his shoulder at Chris, who is sitting in the row behind him, next to Ashley, and Chuck. Bradley stands up, adjusts his coat, then walks around the table to give his closing arguments to the case.)

BRADLEY
My client, Darren Criss, was wrongfully imprisoned. The Los Angeles police department failed to even bother collecting sufficient evidence before arresting him and charging him for a murder he did not commit. Not only did my client spend nearly two months in a high security facility surrounded by dangerous criminals because he could not afford the outrageously high bail that had been set, but now not only is he mentally scarred from this experience, but his reputation is tarnished and he is unable to continue the development of his career as a musician. That’s why I’m asking you, please give my client, give Darren restitution for the wrongs done to him.

(The courtroom is silent as Bradley returns to his seat. Darren mutters an inaudible thanks and glances back at Chris, who doesn’t give him the reassuring smile he needs. The scene fades to black.)

. ~ . ~ .

Episode Twelve: Control
Scene 2

(EXT. The balcony in the morning. Chris is sitting in the lounge chair, his laptop perched on his lap, his fingers poised to type as he looks out at the sunset, a pair of Darren’s blue sunglasses perched on his nose. The door open and Darren comes out wearing only his boxers.)

DARREN
Good morning. (Smiles when he sees Chris wearing his sunglasses) You’re wearing my glasses.

CHRIS
Yes, well I couldn’t find mine.

DARREN
Whatcha doin’?

CHRIS
Writing.

DARREN
Writing what?

CHRIS
A book.

DARREN
What’s it about?

CHRIS
Things.

DARREN
(laughs) I figured that much, silly. (Goes over to sit on the side of the lounge chair, looking down at Chris.)

CHRIS
Look…can you just leave me alone for a while? I need some quiet for this.

(Darren’s smile fades and he nods, not getting up right away.)

DARREN
I’m really sorry…

CHRIS
I know you are.

DARREN
The movie was incredible, Chris. You’re really talented.

CHRIS
Thank you. Now please go.

DARREN
Are you gonna keep being mad at me forever?

CHRIS
(Sighs and closes his laptop, then looks at Darren.) No. No I will not be mad at you forever.

DARREN
But you’re still mad at me for now?

CHRIS
Yes. I am.

DARREN
How can I fix it?

CHRIS
You can’t. I’ll get over it in time.

DARREN
I’m really sorry…

CHRIS
I know. Dare…but you hurt me. That was the most important day ever for me and all I wanted was the love of my life by my side on the red carpet, showing how proud he was of me.

DARREN
(hands his head and takes a deep breath) I know…I was just being stupid.

CHRIS
(sighs and takes Darren’s hand) I know you were. But it still doesn’t take back what you did. So…it’s gonna take a while to get over it. Just have patience.

DARREN
(nods) Ok.

CHRIS
Now go back inside and leave me alone for a bit. I want to get some writing done.

(Darren nods again, squeezes Chris’s hand, then gets up and heads back inside.)

. ~ . ~ .

Kurt and Blaine arrived early to the funeral, riding in the back of a car with dark tinted windows, entering through the back door of the building. It was a day of mourning and Blaine didn’t want it ruined by anyone knowing of their presence. Several of his mother’s friends, and as much of her family as Blaine could contact, had come across the country to attend. Blaine had generously paid airfare for most of them, wanting as many people as possible to show up.

A lot of people did. Most everyone Blaine had been on the phone with every moment he wasn’t filming in the last week. Kurt stood behind Blaine, smiling solemnly at people he didn’t know, occasionally being introduced to those who didn’t recognize him as Blaine’s “roommate”, although most of them could see right through that, as most of them know of what they quietly referred to as Blaine’s “condition”.

The room was nearly full and the service about to begin when Blaine gave up hope of his father coming. He sighed and turned to look at Kurt, hazel eyes brimming with tears. Kurt gave him a knowing look and reached a hand out. Blaine looked at it for a moment before grasping it, twining their fingers together.

They exchange a silent nod, both knowing that Blaine was disappointed, and they were about to head into the room and take their seats up front when Blaine spotted someone entering through the now closed doors rather hesitantly. Blaine froze, squeezing Kurt’s hand tightly. Jack Anderson entered the room, adjusting the tie of his suit and glancing around, a miserable and slightly lost look on his face.

He looked like Blaine. A lot like Blaine. Or, rather, Blaine looked like him. Except he was a lot older, and his hair wasn’t quite as thick or curly. Kurt briefly wondered where Blaine got his curls from, but pushed the thought aside as he watched the man look up and spot Blaine. His frown deepened as he looked at his son, and Blaine immediately dropped Kurt’s hand.

“Father,” Blaine whispered, his voice shaking slightly. He straightened up and took a hesitant step towards the man, who froze when he realized Blaine was coming near him.

“Blaine,” the older man said. They paused a few feet apart from each other, just staring.

“Thank you for coming,” Blaine said. The man stared for another moment, then nodded and glanced over at Kurt, narrowing his eyes. With another glance back at Blaine, he walked past him, down the aisle to take his seat in one of the rows up front.

Blaine’s head drooped and he let out a long sigh. Kurt came up behind him and put a hand on his back, rubbing gently.

“Hey. It’s gonna be ok,” Kurt whispered. Blaine nodded and reached for Kurt’s hand, gripping it tightly. His shoulders shook as he tried not to cry. Kurt pulled him into a hug, despite feeling disapproving eyes on them from all over the room. “It’s gonna be ok,” Kurt whispered, holding Blaine close. He wasn’t quite sure, however, it Blaine really believed him.

. ~ . ~ .

Episode Twelve: Control
Scene 4

(Flashback.)

(INT. Courtroom. Darren is on the witness stand, Bradley facing him, his hands folded in front of him.)

BRADLEY
Darren. Why don’t you tell us about the emotional distress about your home life you faced after being released?

DARREN
Well...um…the biggest thing was I was really worried. The man I shared a cell with was known to be very…unhealthy. I was frightened that I had something just from living with him and sharing facilities with him. I had to wait weeks before I could even be close to my partner, Chris, because I didn’t want to pass anything on to him. It was a very stressful and isolating period for me.

BRADLEY
Thank you. (nods and steps away.)

. ~ . ~ .

Episode Twelve: Control
Scene 5

(INT. Psychiatrist’s office. Chris and Darren are sitting on a couch together, a few feet separating them. A doctor is looking at them curiously.)

DR. WELLER
My name is Dr. Weller. Why don’t you start by telling me yours?

CHRIS
I’m Chris.

DARREN
Darren.

DR. WELLER
And why are the two of you here to see me?

DARREN
I was in jail. And he was nearly killed.

CHRIS
And we’re fighting.

DARREN
And we want the fighting to stop.

CHRIS
Because I love him too much to fight.

DARREN
And I hate when he’s mad at me.

DR. WELLER
(chuckles) Well what do the two of you need me for? You seem like you’re aware of your problems.

CHRIS
We’re…(looks over at Darren)

DARREN
We need help.

CHRIS
We’ve been through so much.

DARREN
We can fix it on our own anymore.

CHRIS
We’re just tired of not being in control anymore.

DR. WELLER
(nods) You’re in luck. I think I may be able to help.

. ~ . ~ .

Blaine and Kurt were nearly ready to leave, Blaine standing at the trash can emptying his pockets of used tissues, his cheeks tinged pink from misery and a bit of embarrassment. Kurt stood a couple feet away from him, his hands in his pockets, watching the last of the guests trickle out. Older women that were crying as they realized that their friend would never be seen again. Friends of Blaine’s who came as a courtesy to him, all of them there to honor the woman who brought him into this world.

Kurt’s own tear shedding had been kept to a minimum throughout the ceremony, mostly so he could remain strong for Blaine, who needed it more than anything. When Blaine was done, he looked up at Kurt, looking miserable.

“Ready to go home?” Kurt asked softly, reaching a hand out to him. Blaine nodded and was about to take it when a throat cleared behind them. Blaine straightened up and slowly turned around to see his father standing there.

“Blaine,” the older man said. Jack was standing perfectly straight, his hands folded in front of him and a deep frown on his face. His eyes were sad, and glistened with minimal tears. “It was a nice service.”

“Thank you,” Blaine replied, his voice slightly hoarse.

“Would you…why don’t we get some lunch?” Jack asked, glancing over at Kurt, his eyes narrowing slightly before he looked back at Blaine.

“I…” Blaine looked over at Kurt, who gave him a single nod before looking away. “Sure.” He nodded once towards his father, then looked back at Kurt. “Um…Dad…this is Kurt. My…”

“Friend,” Jack filled in for him.

“Fianc�,” Blaine finished, standing up to challenge his father a bit.

“Your friend,” Jack said.

“My fianc�. My lover. The man I’m going to marry.” Blaine reached for Kurt’s hand and grasped it, squeezing it tightly. “His name is Kurt.”

“He’s your friend, then.” Jack eyed him, trying to communicate that he didn’t want to know about their relationship. He was more comfortable thinking of Kurt as Blaine’s friend, forcing his eyes not to look at the way their fingers twined together, or the glint of the ring on Kurt’s finger.

Blaine sighed, giving in after Kurt squeezed his hand tightly. “Yeah. He’s my best friend.”

“Now. About lunch.” Jack cleared his throat.

“Um…it would be better if you could just come back to our place. I don’t want a bunch of photographers to attack you or something,” Blaine said. Jack contemplated it for a moment, then gave him a nod.

. ~ . ~ .

Episode Twelve: Control
Scene 7

(INT. Courtroom. Darren sits in his chair, half turned around so he can grasp Chris’s hand tightly as they wait, watching the judge impatiently.)

JUDGE
After hearing testimony from both sides, I have reached a decision. I find this case in favor of Mr. Darren Criss.

(He pauses to allow for their friends and family, and a few of his supporters who attended to give a little cheer)

JUDGE
The city of Los Angeles Police Department is to pay restitutions to Mr. Darren Criss in the amount of two million dollars.

(Another cheer is given and Darren turns to Chris, smiling widely. Chris returns the smile.)

. ~ . ~ .

They sat at the dining room table, Jack on one side and Blaine on the other, staring at each other. Kurt busied himself in the kitchen, toasting up a couple of Panini sandwiches, listening in on the hushed conversation in the other room.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you,” Jack admitted after a few moments of silent.

“I’m angry at you,” Blaine said in reply. “I struggled and starved for years.”

“But look where it got you,” Jack said, a tiny hint of pride in his voice, so tiny it almost wasn’t there. Kurt could imagine him gesturing around the room.

“Don’t give me that crap. You tossed me aside like trash and I got all this by chance,” Blaine said.

“You earned it.”

“Don’t say that. You’ve never even seen my show and I doubt you’ve heard my music,” Blaine almost laughed. Almost.

“I have. I…I bought your cd at the store and I listened to it,” Jack said, sounding surprisingly honest. “You’re very good. I’m proud of you.”

“What about the television show I’ve put the last two years of my life into? Have you seen that?” Blaine asked, a bit irritated.

“Yes. I…I have seen it,” Jack answered, clearly uncomfortable now.

“And?”

“You’ve gained a lot of success. I’m…proud.”

“But you hate that your son is on TV showing off to everyone that he’s gay,” Blaine filled in for him. “And you hate that everyone knows I’m gay. And you hate that I’m here, in the condo that I share with my fianc�, who is a man, and you still can’t accept that who I am has gotten me this far in life.”

Jack didn’t reply right away. There was a lot of truth to Blaine’s words. It couldn’t be denied. Kurt bit his lip as he hurriedly took the sandwiches and plated them, hesitantly heading into the dining room and setting a plate in front of Jack, then in front of Blaine. He sat down beside Blaine and looked at his own plate, picking at his sandwich.

“What did your mother think of all this?” Jack finally said, ignoring the food placed in front of him, his eyes still glued to his son’s face.

“It took time for her to get it, but when she got used to seeing us together, she understood,” Blaine said. He glanced over at Kurt, then placed a hand on his arm and rubbed gently. Jack glanced away, trying to hide any hints of disgust on his face.

“I’ll never understand,” Jack snapped.

“No. You won’t. You’ll never understand how it’s possible for two people to love each other as much as Kurt and I do. You’ll never know what it’s like to have something that feels so right, that even when the whole world tells you it’s wrong, you’re still willing to give anything to have it.” Blaine managed to stay oddly in control as he spoke, his hand still resting on Kurt’s arm, staring his father down as if daring him to challenge his words.

Jack didn’t look up for a long time, but when he finally did, he glanced over at Kurt, and straightened up in his seat.

“You love my son?” he asked. Kurt stared at him with wide eyes, caught off guard by the question.

“Y-yes. Very much,” Kurt replied.

Jack nodded, then glanced over at Blaine. “This…I don’t know if I’ll be able to understand…I’ll try, though, if you…if you’d let me. I…I miss you. Son.”

Blaine gripped Kurt’s arm, staring at his father, not really know what to say. He glanced over at Kurt, then back at Jack. He took a deep breath before he responded.

“I…no.”