It had started off as an easy day. Blaine was in the dining room, neatly folding his and his little brother’s clean laundry while he played music quietly in the background (he may or may not have been listening to Candles, and it may or may not have been because he missed his boyfriend). He hummed along with the music, trying to stay quiet while his five year old brother Liam took his afternoon nap.

This was how most of Blaine’s days had been going lately. Ever since he got home from school for the summer a few months ago he’d become the parent. His mother was gone before he’d even gotten home. Every summer she visits her family in the Philippines and stays there until the Fall. Blaine’s father was a plastic surgeon, so he hadn’t even been home when Blaine arrived. Once his father did make an appearance he announced that since Blaine was there to take care of Liam he’d be taking an impromptu trip to California for some conference and didn’t know when he’d be back (Blaine knew that ‘conference’ was code for ‘sleeping with his mistress’).

That had been about two months ago, and he’d been home on and off since then. But he was away more than he was home. But Blaine and Liam had been getting along quiet well. They would take trips to the park, ‘camp out’ in both the living room and the back yard, and go out for ice cream whenever Liam requested because Blaine just could not refuse his brother anything. They also hung out with Kurt and his friends a lot. Kurt absolutely loved Liam. He spoiled the boy more than he spoiled himself – and that was saying something. And Liam had taken quite a liking to Kurt too. Blaine couldn’t be happier.

There had also been the party last weekend. Liam’s birthday had been two days prior. All of which Blaine had organized by himself. He’d bought invitations, filled them all out for Liam’s friends, and mailed them out. He’d fielded calls from Liam’s friends’ parents telling them they would be attending the party. He also planned a menu, ordered a cake, and plotted out how he was going to set up their large back yard for the party…in case the trend had gone unnoticed, Blaine is far more a parent to his little brother than either of his parents. They weren’t even home for their youngest son’s birthday. Though they both did call, because Liam was the perfect one.

Blaine shook himself from his thoughts and grabbed the overflowing basket of clean clothes to make his way up the stairs.

That was when he heard the front door open.

Turning, he noticed Benjamin Anderson noisily stomp through the front door, dropping his luggage, and slamming the door. Blaine bit back the urge to tell his father Liam was napping and that he should quiet down. It’s not like his father would listen to him anyway. Especially the way he looked right now, he looked down right enraged.

“Dad.” The teenage said in surprised greeting. He made his way back to the landing and placed the laundry basket down next to where his satchel (he’d never call it a purse) sat by the door. “You’re home.”

“I am.” His father said, “Thanks for pointing that out.”

“Uh-how was your trip?”

“Fantastic.” He father snarled sarcastically, taking off his jacket and throwing it onto the coat rack. Blaine felt something forming in the pit of his stomach. His father was being extra rude today, far ruder than he normally was with Blaine. Something must have gone wrong. Maybe his mistress broke it off with him.

“Daddy!” A new voice cried, causing the two men in the foyer to turn and watch as little Liam came barreling down the steps. He ran up to his father and hugged his legs. Benjamin smiled a little as his (favored) son ran to him. But the smile faded away as he glanced down at the little boy.

“Liam, what’s on your back?”

Liam was wearing one of his birthday gifts: a yellow Disney Princess backpack. “Do you like it? Becky got it for my birthday!” Liam had an obsession with Disney movies, and Belle was his favorite character (he’d formed quite the crush for her). Blaine had watched Beauty and the Beast at least 3 times a week since they’ve been alone in the large house.

Liam hadn’t gone anywhere without the backpack since he’d gotten it. He’d stuffed it with all his essentials: coloring books, colored pencils, a book, his gameboy, some games, and his security blanket. The small pack was stuffed and probably a little heavy for the boy but he refused to take it off.

“Why would she give you a princess backpack?” Their father pulled Liam from his legs so he could look him in the eye.

“A’cause I asked for it.” The five year old said as if it were obvious.

“Why would you ask for that?” Blaine could see where this was going and started to inch closer to his little brother.

“I like the princesses! Belle is-”

“Liam. Boys aren’t supposed to have backpacks with princesses on them.” It was a curt, short statement but it was heavy. Blaine could feel the tension in the room rising. His father had never exactly been fond of Blaine’s homosexuality and detested anything effeminate.

“But—Blaine likes the princesses.” Liam said, his lower lip quivering a bit. “He said my backpack was really cool.”

Benjamin gave Blaine a sharp look before turning back to Liam. “Blaine is wrong. Give me the backpack, Liam.”

Liam threw his arms behind himself and hugged the bag to his back. “But daddy-”

“Liam. You can’t have a girly backpack. Give it to me.”

Liam looked ready to cry. “Dad, c’mon, it’s just a backpack-” Blaine started to say, stepping slightly in front of his brother.

“You stay out of this.” Benjamin snarled, pointing and accusing finger in Blaine’s face. “You’re trying to recruit him.”

“Recruit him?!” Blaine repeated, scandalized.

“You’re trying to make him—make him like you.” He turned back to the younger son and said with a surprising amount of viciousness, “Give me the goddamn backpack, Liam.”

“But daddy-”

“Dad, stop it-”

“Liam!” And then time sort of slowed down. Blaine watched as his father let the rage from whatever had happened on his trip boil through. He started to lift his hand, and Blaine knew what he was doing. He was going to hit Liam. Their father had never raised a hand to Liam.

Something inside Blaine snapped then.

Using all his might Blaine dove forward. He slammed his body into his father and all but tackled him to the ground. He managed to keep his own balance and stumbled back, carefully trying to tuck Liam behind him.

Benjamin looked shocked for a moment, and then suddenly he was back on his feet, and before Blaine could register that he was on the floor, pain exploding in his left eye. The only sound Blaine could hear was the high pitched screech from his little brother. Blaine opened his eyes to see Liam staring in horror as Benjamin pulled back his hand to hit Blaine again.

“Daddy, no!” Liam was screaming, Blaine turned and his father ended up punching him hard in the back. He punched his elder son in the back a few times before suddenly stopping.

“You’re not going to turn him into you. He’s not a useless faggot. You…you are no son of mine.” Blaine didn’t bother opening his eyes. And then suddenly the front door slammed and Blaine wasn’t even sure when it had opened.

Blaine tried to flip himself over to make sure his little brother was still with him, but the surprising amount of pain in his back shot through him and he stopped moving. Then suddenly small hands were gingerly touching his cheek.

“Blainey?” His little brother’s soft voice was shaking and Blaine was torn between relief that Liam was there and horror that he had witnessed that.

He opened his eyes and sat up, ignoring the dulling pain in his back. Never had his father exploded at him like that. Sure, he’d smacked Blaine once or twice, but never had he hit Blaine that hard, that much, and with such malice.

He’d also never raised a hand to Liam who, as far as Benjamin was concerned, could do no wrong.

“Liam, we’re gonna go on a trip, ok?” He said suddenly.

The five year old was hiccupping as he cried quietly, sobbing a little. He ran his fist under his nose. “Where’re we going?”

“I don’t know. It’ll—it’ll be a surprise. C’mon.” Blaine forced himself up. Grabbing his satchel from the floor he opened the front door, and paused as his eyes set on the clean laundry. As an afterthought he grabbed it (he had no idea where he was going or even if he was coming back, having some clean clothes was probably a good idea). The two brothers quickly made their way to Blaine’s car. The teen threw the laundry basket in the backseat and quickly buckled Liam into his car seat.

“Blainey, I-” Liam started to say, but stopped as tears welled up in his eyes again.

“It’ll be ok, buddy. Everything’ll be ok.”

00

It was close to 9 PM when there was a banging on the front door of the Hummel-Hudson household. The family had just finished dinner and were chatting over some fancy, unpronounceable dessert Kurt had made.� Burt forced himself out of his chair, warned Finn not to touch his food, and made his way to the front door.

When he finally made it to the front door he could hear his wife and two sons laughing at something happily. He loved family nights like this and did not like them to be disturbed. He found himself saying, “Someone better be dead.” But when he saw who was on his doorstep he regretted his words.

“Blaine?” There stood Kurt’s boyfriend Blaine, in his arms was a confused, unhappy five-year-old. Burt wondered if this was Blaine’s little brother, the one Kurt gushed about all the time. Burt’s thoughts were brought back to his son’s boyfriend as he took in his appearance. Blaine’s eyes were wide and a little wild, his hair un-gelled, he had his glasses on, and he wore an old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He looked simply frazzled.

“M-Mr. Hummel.” Blaine said quickly. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t know where else to go. None of my family lives in Westerville and you guys were the closest people I could think of and I know it’s late but I just drove the two hours and I-”

“Blaine, please.” Burt cut the boy’s rambling off and ushered him inside, shutting the door. “Are you two ok? Are you in trouble? What happened to your eye?” The father took Blaine’s face in his hands and quickly inspected the swollen eye. Even in the dim hall light Burt could see the boy was blushing.

“I—I-”

“Blaine?” The two turned to see Kurt standing on the stairs, eyes wide. Carol and Finn weren’t far behind. “Oh my God, what happened? Are you ok?” Kurt quickly ran forward and mirrored his father’s previous action, taking Blaine’s face in his hand and gently cupping Liam’s face with his other hand.

“I’m sorry, Kurt. We didn’t—we didn’t know where else to go—”

“Daddy’s mean, Kurt.” Liam cut in, speaking very seriously as he glanced at his big brother.

That seemed to be all Kurt needed to hear as his eyes widened in horror. “Oh no – what happened?”

“It…it was bad.” Blaine glanced at Liam. His eyes were red, clearly from crying. “Really bad.” Kurt nodded, before turning around to glance at his dad.�

Burt seemed to take his cue. “You guys can stay here for as long as you need.” He looked Blaine in the eye before looking to Liam. “Hey there, little guy.” Burt said warmly, bending so he was on Liam’s eye level. “We need to talk to Blaine for a bit. Why don’t you and Finn go play upstairs?” The father glanced at Finn, who nodded at his words.

“C’mere little buddy.” Finn said brightly to the 5-year-old. Liam glanced from his big brother to Finn.

“It’s ok, Liam.” Blaine said with a nod and a soft, forced smile, as he lowered him to the floor. “Finn’s nice, you know him. Remember when he showed you how to use the slip-in-slide the other day?” Liam glanced at Finn and seemed to recognize him. He relaxed then and turned to the tall boy, reaching up and taking his hand.

Finn, ever the macho man, all but melted at the cute boy. “Nice to see you again, buddy. You ever played Mario Kart?”

Liam’s eyes lit up, though his voice stayed shyly quiet. “I love Mario Kart! I…Blaine always lets me play as Baby Mario. Can I be Baby Mario?”

“Anything you want, little man. Y’know, you kind of look like Baby Mario.”

“I do?” The two’s voices faded as they got to the top of the stairs and went to the game room. Once they could no longer be heard Burt, Carole, and Kurt all turned to Blaine. The troubled boy was still staring at the stairs, clearly nervous that Liam was out of his sight despite the fact he trusted Finn.

“Why don’t you sit down, Blaine.” Carole asked, her voice soft and caring. The teen turned to the three staring at him, eyes still kind of wild. His whole demeanor was different now that Liam was gone. It was like his inner dam was cracking. The person he needed to be strong for wasn’t there to watch him break, and now the crack was rapidly growing. His hands started to shake, his breath quickened a bit.

Burt took a step forward, worry evident on his face, “Son?” And that seemed to be the last blow that made the crack in the dam turn into a crumbling wall. It was a simple word, ‘son,’ but it was one Blaine’s own father never called him – wouldn’t call him. A simple, rarely heard word, but it was said with so much compassion, so much concern. No adult had ever showed Blaine even the slightest concern, but here was his boyfriend’s father, more worried about him than his parents ever would be.

You are no son of mine.

A sob ripped from Blaine’s throat as he heard his own father’s voice in his head. It was so different than Burt’s caring, concerned voice. “Oh God.” He managed to gasp out before his knees buckled. Before he could register it, Kurt was at his side, holding him up as Blaine clung to him, sobbing messily. It was gross, messy crying, but still he couldn’t stop. He felt himself being led away and soon was sitting, elbows resting on his knees as he buried his face in his hands. “Oh God.” Blaine repeated, breath hitching. His back arched and fell rapidly as he seemed unable to calm down.

He could hear Kurt’s soft whisper in his ear, “It’s ok, baby. Let it out. It’s ok to cry.” A hand gently touched his back and it was like everything came crashing to a halt. Pain seared from the touch, like a zap into reality. A gasp cut through his crying like a knife. The hand disappeared immediately.

“Blaine?” Another sob escaped Blaine’s throat, but it was more sedate. His breath continued to hitch and he refused to look up. “Blaine…baby, I…can I see?” Blaine didn’t respond, “I’m going to lift up your shirt, ok?” Blaine shook his head but didn’t say a word. He didn’t bother to actually protest. Kurt clearly ignored the silent protest as Blaine felt his boyfriend tugging the hem of his shirt up gently.

Three very distinct gasps rang through the room, conveying very different emotions.

“Oh—oh my God.” Carole was horrified.

“Oh, Blaine, no…” Kurt was crying now, sounding so defeated

“What the fuck.” Burt…Burt was in a rage. Blaine couldn’t even stop himself from flinching at the venom in the father’s voice.

Blaine’s shirt was lowered – he still refused to look up – and a whimper escaped him. Kurt shushed him quietly, trying to sooth him. His breath continued to hitch, but he was managing to calm himself down. Kurt continued to whisper in his ear – “We’ll make it better, baby, we’ll make it better” - for several long moments. As Blaine became calmer Kurt abruptly stopped whispering in his ear. At the change in atmosphere Blaine forced himself to look up.

He had to stop himself from swearing at what he saw.

There, at the bottom of the stairs, stood Liam. Finn came running up behind him, immediately apologetic. “He said he was going to the bathroom – I didn’t –” But Liam was already walking across the room to his brother. He looked sad, scared, but he had a very determined look on his face. He stopped in front of Blaine, just staring at him, before he started to climb into his lap. Once situated he resumed looking hard into Blaine’s eye. After a second, he took his brother’s face in his tiny hands.

“I love you, Blainey.” He said, his voice grave, his eye extremely serious (far too serious for a five year old) as he held his brother’s surprised gaze. “I love you. I don’t love daddy anymore, but I love you.”

Tears started to escape the older brother’s eyes at the boy’s words. “Oh, Jesus, Liam.” He whispered, wrapping his arms around the small boy’s frame. He tugged him close, pressing him to his chest. “I love you so much, Liam. Don’t ever forget how much I love you.”

“I love you too, Blainey. But don’t cry anymore, ok?”

“Ok, Liam.” Blaine whispered, “No more crying.” Taking a deep breath he pulled back and looked his little brother in the eye. “I love you, bubby.”

“I love you too, Blainey.”