It’s the screaming that throws him off.

A wailing, broken yell - but that’s not it. It’s that he’s heard this same screaming, in some variations, since he was invited into the delivery room and handed this wriggling mass of baby brother.

Now it’s the voice of a curly-haired boy who hasn’t quite hit puberty; still short and just starting to sing in the shower, his voice breaking on a few notes. Cooper is all at once horribly confused; he doesn’t even like his brother; no one does; but the fact that his friends are kicking the shit out of a little boy that he lives with, who shares his last name and whose blood is now spilling onto the pavement - it disorients him. He’s frozen, watching their fun.

Bill turns around, flashing him a pearly grin. “Coop, man, what’s the matter?” He scrutinizes Cooper’s face. “Oh man, come on. You always call him an annoying little shit. He’s an annoying little faggot shit, come on. You know he deserves it.” He punctuates this with a kick to Blaine’s ribs that makes him curl further into the fetal position and whimper. Cooper just stares. Soon fifteen-year-old hands start tugging at him, pull him closer and closer to his brother’s prostrate body, until he’s standing right in front of Blaine. Blaine, who doesn’t seem to recognize him, but continues whimpering, cupping his face in his hands. The other boys have stopped, in what looks like deference. “Come on, Coop,” a few murmur, but Cooper slowly shakes his head.

Bill whispers in his ear. “What’s the matter? Scared?” He grins; Cooper can feel a hot exhalation against his ear. “Little faggot bitch like your brother?” Cooper shakes his head again, more vigorously, anger flaring up in him. Of course not. Bill knows that. “But you can’t even fight your family’s little disgrace. Sounds like someone’s getting his man card revoked,” he pitches his voice up, earning a few hearty laughs from the crowd. “Bitch.”

Cooper grits his teeth; turns back to Blaine, who seems to have realized some of what’s going on through his pain-hazy eyes. “Is it true? You as much of a fag as they say you are?” he asks Blaine. Blaine nods slowly, once, his head drooping in defeat. “You know what Mom and Dad will say.” Blaine nods again, barely. His eye is swelling. “You know what I say?” His brother looks up, hopeful, but Cooper can feel the other boys’ eyes on him, silently chanting fag, fag, fag, fag like his brother, the whole family fucking fags - and he loses it. He kicks Blaine cleanly in the crotch. Blaine curls up and groans, starting to cry. “Fuck you, faggot.” The festivities start again.

——

Later that night, Cooper treads quietly up the stairs, having snuck a bleeding, bruised Blaine past his parents and into the bathroom. He had shoved a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a box of band-aids at him and left. Then he went to clean his own face, and when he came back out, everyone’s lights were off. Blaine must have gone quietly to his room. Cooper had let out a breath, relieved he hadn’t gone to their parents.

When he gets to the hall, sure enough, Blaine’s light is still on. Cooper’s about to tiptoe guiltily past when he hears something coming from Blaine’s room. Music. Of course. Blaine always listens to music when he gets upset. Sometimes he sings. Tonight, Blaine’s humming. Cooper wonders what the song is and steps closer. The music is interrupted by a short, wracking sob.

Cooper stops, ear pressed to his brother’s door. A small voice, cracking with tears, drifts through.

“I wish that I could tie you up in my shoes
Make you feel unpretty too…”

He can imagine Blaine now, singing in front of the mirror on his dresser, the old-fashioned one meant for old-fashioned shaving, the way he’s caught Blaine singing so many times. All those love songs - he was singing to boys?

“Never insecure till I met you -
Now I’m being stupid.”

It’s not that there’s much bad about Blaine. He’s annoying, sure, but he’s a little brother - isn’t that kind of his job? But fuck, what is this gay thing? This is sure as hell the first time Cooper’s heard about it.

“Why do I look to all these things
to keep you happy?
Maybe get rid of you
And come back to me…”

Cooper can hear the pain - the fucking pain - in his twelve-year old brother’s voice, and he doesn’t know what to do. He kicked the hell out of Blaine. Why? He’s fucking GAY, his mind screams at him, but Cooper still can’t wrap his mind around it all. What does that even mean? Does he want to screw men? He’s twelve. How does he even know what he wants? Does he hate straight people? Does he hate Cooper? Well, he probably does. But it wouldn’t have anything to do with Blaine being gay.
“…make me feel so damn unpretty.”

——

5 years later

I’m in control

Cooper watches his baby (not such a baby anymore, how the years went by) brother dancing on the bare stage, spinning in the worklights. His face is crumpled in concentration, intense emotion radiating from the tenseness in his shoulders. No doubt he’s heard that Coop, the golden boy, the prodigal son, is coming home.

“How are you, Blaine?” he asks. The other boy jumps slightly, shuffles around abashedly, and then catches sight of his brother’s face. He stiffens.

“Cooper?”

“Yeah.” Coop isn’t sure what kind of conversation they’re supposed to be having; he doesn’t even know how to start. How do you catch up after -

“I haven’t seen you in three years.”

…How do you respond to that? “I know.”

Blaine looks somewhat disgusted. “And nothing to say for yourself? Mom and Dad get to see you all the time, but no time for your little brother?”

“Mom and Dad come to New York to see me.”

“Mom and Dad come to New York to manage the firm.”

When did Blaine become such a cynical fuck? It stings. “I don’t see you because you’re never in New York.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “They’ve invented these things called phones, Cooper. And then there’s the internet, but you might want to try and acclimate yourself to the 1870s first.”

“…You’re a smart kid.”

Blaine just glares. “Stop it, okay? Just go see Mom and Dad and let them fawn over you, and we’ll spend the next couple days pretending like the other doesn’t exist.” He looks like he wants to say more, but he bites his lip and turns away.

“What is it, Blaine?”

Blaine struggles with the sentence for a few moments, puffing out his cheeks, trying to keep it contained, but he gives up and mutters, “I’m a nobody in that house anyway.”

Cooper stuffs his hands in his pockets. “What are you talking about, Blaine?”

Coop sees the words twisting in his brother’s throat, choking him, but they work their way past and Blaine spits out, “They hate me.”

“Blaine, you’re fine. They’ll be a little hard on you sometimes.”

“They were a little hard on you. Me - they can’t even begin to contain themselves. It’s not because they love me and they want to take care of me. It’s because they can’t stand to see me. The only interaction I’ve had with them for years is the…the screaming.” He rubs at his temple with a knuckle.

“They’re parents - they’re supposed to be taking care of you.” But Cooper can tell already that this is something more than just yelling about grades.

“Yeah, well - ” Blaine waves his hand noncommittally, as if to say guess that didn’t work out. fuck it.

Cooper swallows, turning over the question he barely dares to ask. “Did they - hit you?” Blaine just flashes him a look, and Cooper knows. ”Blaine, why didn’t you tell anyone?” Coop hears the unadulterated superiority in his voice and winces internally. Blaine glares at him.
“It’s not as easy as it sounds. ‘Oh, just open your mouth and form sentences you have no idea how to word, conversations you have no idea how to start - opening your mouth will probably lead to you essentially – getting the shit smacked out of you, but you shouldn’t worry about that!’ Yeah, it’s not easy.” Blaine grabs a water bottle from the edge of the stage and takes a big swig. Looking at Cooper again, he softens a little. “Look, you didn’t know. Fine. And I’m living with Kurt now; it’s not a big deal. I just have to figure out how to get a place of my own before I can get out of this town - their town.” He runs his fingers through his hair.

Cooper swallows, tries to shape that other question. “Blaine…is this because you’re…” He can’t say it. “You know.”

If Cooper thought Blaine was angry before, it’s nothing compared to now. He’s furious. “Gay?” he practically shouts. “You f - Of course it’s because I’m gay. Did you think I became a meth addict since you left?” He shakes his head, eyes blazing. Cooper’s afraid for a minute that Blaine might hit him. “Or maybe you just thought I’d be an AIDS patient. Fuck you.” He leaves, water bottle swinging in one clenched fist.

——

So he asks around at Blaine’s school (knowing the first place to go is the glee club classroom) and it turns out that Blaine’s going to Breadstix that night. His phony excuse of wanting to surprise his brother doesn’t sit well with some of Blaine’s classmates, he can tell, but he can’t think of anything better. He drives to the restaurant, an old hangout for Cooper and his friends as well. He snags a table by the wall where he can see the whole room. He peers around at the various booths, trying to figure out what his brother could be doing here, eating dinner alone on a Friday night. He notices a pale, brown-haired boy around Blaine’s age sitting at a table across the room, looking around the same way Coop is, picking absentmindedly at his napkin. He wonders what this boy’s story is.

When he glances back to the door, Blaine has already walked in, smiling. Thank god he’s in a good mood, Cooper thinks as he slides back his chair, preparing to stand up and go over to him.

But the other boy gets there first. They meet with an enthusiastic hug and a kiss. Cooper steps back, shocked. He watches as the pair (couple?) moves over to their table, the taller, pale boy chatting animatedly, and his brother listening with a smile so filled with wonder he could be five again, looking up at the Milky Way.

Taking a deep breath, Cooper decides to approach them anyway. The second he does, Blaine’s face darkens. “What do you want?” The other boy looks his way, confused.

“I just want to talk.”

“We talked.” It looks like the pale boy nudges Blaine in the ribs, because he sighs and says, “Sorry. Kurt, this is my brother Cooper. Cooper, this is my boyfriend, Kurt. While you’re trying to stomach that, I hope you won’t mind if we take our seats.” With that, Blaine guides them to the table, turning his back on his brother. Cooper steps forward. “Why are you still here?” The boy - Kurt - reaches out to take Blaine’s hand, rubbing a thumb soothingly over the skin. Blaine’s tense shoulders loosen up a little.

“I - don’t mean to interrupt - “

“Cut the bullshit, Coop. And go away.”

“Didn’t you learn anything about being an Anderson gentleman?”

“He has,” the other boy - Kurt - puts in before Blaine lashes out again. Blaine flashes him a silent look of thanks before turning back to his brother.

Cooper doesn’t know what he’s going to say. “I’m not here to fight.”

Blaine challenges him with a tilt of his head. “But aren’t you?”

“Blaine. You can’t honestly think that I’m not a little bit sorry? Because I am sorry. I should have called.”

“You should have done lots of things.”

“What do you expect me to do?” And maybe Cooper shouts a little too angrily, he throws his hands in the air and Blaine visibly flinches. Cooper’s thrown. Kurt gets up and moves closer to Blaine, rubbing his shoulders and whispering something in his ear. Blaine’s body curves into the table; he drops his elbows on the table and digs the heels of his hands into his eyes.

You idiot fuck, Cooper screams at himself in his head. “I just…I’m sorry. I’ll go.” He turns to leave but Kurt stops him.

“No - don’t leave.”

“Kurt…” Blaine mumbles. “Don’t.”

“No. He said he’s not going to fight.” A pair of green eyes accosts him, throwing out fiery obscenities - you have no idea what I’ll do to you if you mess this up.
Coop doesn’t need any more encouragement. He moves closer.

“Blaine. All I’m trying to say is…I’m sorry. I didn’t know. But I’m still really sorry. …And I…don’t know what else to say.” Blaine grunts in acknowledgment. And Cooper figures that’s the best he’s going to get for now; he decides to leave them to their…date. But as he’s turning to leave, he knows even though there’s not much else he can say to Blaine, there’s still more he can say.
“…Could I speak to Kurt alone, please?” Blaine’s head snaps up in surprise, but Kurt silently gets up and follows him to the corner of the restaurant.

“Is this the you-break-his-heart-and-I’ll-break-your-face speech?”

“This is that speech.” Cooper doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. He never expected he’d have to do this. You don’t have to do this for boys, do you? Girls don’t…well, they do. Girls can stomp all over your heart. But still…

It takes a few moments, but Cooper realizes he can’t think of any other reason why this should be so different.

“Kurt. You can’t hurt my brother.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow. “I won’t.”

Coop sighs. “I don’t think you understand. You can’t hurt my brother because…because I’ve hurt him before. I regret it every single day. Obviously my dad’s hurt my brother. …I don’t know if he regrets anything. But if you hurt my brother…that might just be the final straw. There’s no way he could trust anyone after that. Just…just promise me you’ll do better than I did. Promise me you’ll make it right. Make it all worth it.”

Kurt pauses for a moment, obviously teetering on the edge of something. “Cooper…first of all, I don’t plan to hurt your brother. We’re in love.” He says it so simply that it can’t be anything but true. “But secondly…if you don’t mind me saying so…I think the only person who can fix all of that is you. I can support him, but I can’t do anything else.” He lets out a wry, bitter chuckle. “Trust me, I’ve tried.” Kurt meets Cooper’s eyes. “At least - at least try. Please. Since his dad - he’s been broken, Cooper. He’s trying his best but…just try.” With that, Kurt leaves, heading for his jacket hanging off the back of the chair. Cooper watches him kiss Blaine on the cheek and head out the door. Blaine looks up at Cooper. Well, looks like we’re stuck here.

With a jerk of his head, Blaine signals that they should sit down at the table Kurt had been holding. They do.

“Well? We as unnatural as you thought we’d be?” Blaine’s snarky and the good mood he’d had when Kurt was here has disappeared. Cooper resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“No, actually. I know I’m not perfect but - I - I think I’m learning.” Blaine leans back in his chair, looking mildly surprised.

“Why haven’t you gone to see Mom and Dad?”

“Why would I? After hearing about…” Cooper doesn’t know how to finish the sentence. Luckily he doesn’t have to.

“Yeah. Kind of changes your whole opinion on parenting, doesn’t it?” Blaine looks out the window.

“Do you want kids?” Coop blurts. “With a - with Kurt?”

Blaine raises his eyebrow at him. “Yes.”

“How many, then?”

“We both want a little girl. But I want her to look like Kurt and Kurt wants her to look like me…so maybe two.”

“You’re that sure about you and Kurt?” Cooper certainly didn’t feel that way about any of his high school girlfriends. Then again, he did interpret the term ‘girlfriend’ rather loosely in high school - which makes
him feel like shit.

“Yeah. I am. I gave…I gave him a promise ring.” Cooper can tell from the way Blaine stutters through the sentence that Blaine hasn’t told anyone yet. “I know we’re young but…I’ve found someone I love so much that I can’t wait to see my engagement ring on his finger. Or his on mine. He’s leaving next year but…I think we’ll make it.” Blaine’s fingers curl around the edge of the table. “I know that’s stupid.”

That tears at Cooper’s heartstrings, and he’s brought back to the night after the dance, to the little boy singing in his room, staring at his black eye in the mirror. “It’s not stupid,” he says quietly.

Blaine looks up at him, almost but not quite daring to be hopeful. “You think so?”

“I do. I mean, I don’t know Kurt well, obviously, but…he cares about you. And if you think it’ll work - well, I guess I don’t need to tell you what happens when you set your mind to something.” Blaine ducks his head, barely hiding his slight smile. “You really moved out of the house?”

Blaine’s mouth sets in a harsh line at that. “Yeah.”

“Well. That must have taken some courage.” Blaine nods, silent and tight-lipped. “I couldn’t have done that.”

“I know.”

Cooper knows Blaine’s not being harsh, just honest. “Yeah, I figured you did. Anyway, I’m proud of you.”

Blaine’s eyes roam over Cooper’s face for a moment, searching. “Thanks, Cooper.” He gets up to leave, adjusting his jacket. “Call me? Mom and Dad have my cell phone number.”

“Sure.”

Blaine nods, quick, short. “Cool.” He leaves. Cooper watches as his little brother steps into the street, pulling out his phone. Probably to call his date. His boyfriend. Cooper still doesn’t understand that, but he sure as hell is going to try. Hell, he’s jaded and single and he’s woken up to hungover strangers for the past month. All his brother wants is love. And it looks like he’s found it. So should it matter in whom?

Cooper stares at the little puddle of coffee someone else has left in the corner of the table. Barely thinking, he pulls out his phone, dialing home. It rings once.

“Hello? Mom?”

Cooper, darling! Are you coming over for dinner tonight? Maria’s got this wonderful-smelling roast in the oven.

“Mom, why hasn’t Blaine been at home?”

…He’s boarding at Dalton Academy, you know that.

“Well, I was thinking about checking in on the Warblers. That’s outside of Westerville, right?”

You don’t want to do that, honey. Just a bunch of teenage boys running around stinking up their gym clothes. Besides, Blaine isn’t in the Warblers anymore.

“Why not? I thought he loved it.”

Your father and I…decided it would be best for him to
quit. He was getting behind in school.

“Really? He’s such a smart kid.”

Well, he only had so much time on his hands. And singing’s not exactly the best way to spend it.

“Why do you say that?”

Oh, no reason, dear. Why don’t we talk about you? Aren’t you tired of that airport hotel by now? I mean, I know it’s only been a day, but -

“Sure, let’s talk about me. How the hell do you justify lying to me like this?”

…

“I’ve seen Blaine. He says he’s not even living with you anymore.”

And I’m sure he had great stories to tell.

“From what I understand, they’re not just stories.”

Listen, Cooper. He went his way. We gave him several warnings about the deliquency of his behavior, but he refused to listen to us. In the end, he left. We tried to contact him for several days, but he never picks up.

Cooper’s stunned. “You tried to call him for a few days and you just gave up? Your son disappeared. You couldn’t even care enough to check that he wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere?”

He went his way.

“You make me sick.”

Oh, grow up! You want to believe all of the bleeding-heart bullshit your brother feeds you, go ahead - you’re acting like a child.

“I’m not a child anymore, Mom. And neither is Blaine.”

He’s nobody’s child.

“He’s my brother.”

You can have him.

She hangs up. Cooper murmurs to the dead phone, “I’ll take him.”