Blaine can't sleep. His night light is on, he hasn't used it since he was 9, but even that isn't helping. Every time he closes his eyes, he can hear the whimpering of his fellow Glee club members, every tiny sound coming from the kitchen sounded like a gunshot to his ears.

He lays on his back, wearing a t-shirt and jeans. He knew it was silly, but he wanted to be prepared... just in case- BANG!

He was upright in bed immediately, heart pounding and breath quickening.It's just the air vents, calm down...He kept telling himself over and over, but another loud noise from the kitchen made him throw the blankets off and make his way to the closed and locked bedroom door as fast as he could.

He tried to keep himself as composed as possible as he made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. He paused in the door and watched his mother move around, she was busy making tomorrow's lunch and preparing to make breakfast as painless as possible. His father was sitting at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper.

It was a full minute and a half before he was noticed. "Blaine? Sweetheart why aren't you in bed? You're still dressed..." Mrs. Anderson trails off when she notices the look in her son's eyes, he was barely holding back tears. Suddenly, he wasn't 17 anymore, he was the tiny little boy she used to spend every day with. He looked even smaller than ever, head bowed and lingering against the wall.He's afraid of open spaces...she realizes.

Where did the time go? When she started working again somewhere around Blaine's entering into fifth grade, she'd spent maybe an hour or two with him a day, except for holidays, and even then she was usually too busy with relatives and food preparations to really pay that much attention to him.

She'd missed so much, most of puberty, the crucial years where he'd struggled to accept his sexuality... the most time she'd spent with him between age ten and today were when he was in the hospital after the Sadie Hawkins attack, and she knew for a fact he didn't remember much of the week following that night.

She even missed his first real boyfriend, his transfer back to public school, his Nationalswin, his break-up with said boyfriend...

A sniffle and a small whimper brought her out of her reverie, Blaine was wiping at his eyes. "S-Sorry, I-I... I can't sleep, and... I don't know why I'm down here, I'm sorry..." He turned and started back toward the stairs, but not before casting an almost hopeful look toward his father and his mother.Oh god... he must think we hate him...

"Blainey, c'mere." Mrs. Anderson set down the knife she was using to slice cheese and closed the distance between herself and her son. Within seconds her arms were full of a sobbing teenager, she gently stroked his un-gelled hair, "Shh, baby. It's okay to be scared..."

It was then that Mr. Anderson finally looked up, making eye contact with his wife and the unspoken words were heard clearly by them both.We almost lost our son today.

Wordlessly, Mr. Anderson stands and motions his wife into the living room, where she deposits Blaine gently on the couch. He clings to her tighter than she expected, and for a minute she's shocked at how strong her baby boy has become over the years. She simply lets him pull her onto the couch next to him and keeps her arms around him. She had a feeling he wouldn't let go for a while... When he was little and he'd come to their room during a thunderstorm, he never let go of her until he saw the sun shining through the window again.

Mr. Anderson took a seat on the other couch, across from his wife and son. The three of them sat in silence for countless minutes, until Blaine's shoulders stopped jerking with nearly silent sobs and he seemed to be breathing easier.

Blaine looked up in confusion when his father stood and left the room, he glanced to his mother for an answer, but she just shrugged. It was a well-known, but little talked about fact that Blaine and his father hadn't spoken more than three words to each other at a time in years, not since Blaine came out to them.

So it was a surprise to both of them when Mr. Anderson returned with a juicebox and a box of animal crackers. Blaine sniffs and lets out a tiny, choked laugh. "You remember..."

When Blaine was little, every time he'd get hurt or upset, his mother or father would bring him a juice box and animal crackers, it had gotten to the point where Blaine had started to make up reasons to cry just so he'd get some animal crackers. His father finally cut him off completely after Blaine tried to claim that Cooper tried to run him over with his bike. Cooper didn't own a bike.

"How could I forget? You used to sit at the table for hours, giving them names and playing with them.. eating them one by one and making the rest have funerals for them."

Blaine sat in stunned silence, his father remembers that...? Blaine didn't even remember doing that... He can feel the tears welling up in his eyes again.

"Listen, Blaine... I know we haven't been connecting at all over the past few years, but I want you to know that I don't hate you." Blaine's full attention was on his father now, and silent tears began to make their way down his face.

"It was hard, at first... when you told us you were gay. I didn't expect it, and I didn't know how to react, I never thought I'd find myself in that situation, you know? It was always one of those issues that other people had to deal with..." Mr. Anderson continued. "But, recently I got in touch with Burt Hummel and... he's taught me a lot about what it means to be a dad."
Blaine swallows and pulls himself from his mother's grasp and wraps his arms around his father.

"I'm sorry I haven't been there for you, Blaine... and the fact that I could have lost you forever today, I... I can't waste any more time. I love you, and I'm proud of you... Just for being you."

Blaine clings tighter, choking on a sob as he manages to get out, "I love you too."

Vaguely, he felt his mother's arms wrap around both of them, and after a few minutes of crying together, Blaine finally passed out from exhaustion. Mr. Anderson carefully lifted his son, who was far too light for his size... that would have to be addressed soon, and carried him to his room. As he tucked the sleeping teenager in, he smiled and gave the curly hair one last stroke.

There was still a lot that they'd need to work out, but for the first time since learning about his son's sexuality, Mr. Anderson felt like he was ready to face those obstacles with his son, together. And he'll be damned if he's not sitting in the front row beaming with pride at his son's wedding.