DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee, nor am I associated with it or RIB. Actually, I just don't own anything. There we go.

Fam(ily)

By: xSlythStratasfaction

SPOILER ALERT for episode 4x18. TRIGGER WARNING for mentions of a school shooting.


Maria Anderson is in the middle of vacuuming the master bedroom when she hears it.

"Maria! Maria!"

It's been years since she's heard her husband sound so terrified and the volume of his bellowing scares her enough that the vacuum falls right out of her hands and clatters to the floor. Scared, she yanks the plug out of the wall to silence the machine and then runs out of the bedroom and down the stairs, freezing to a halt when she spots her husband standing there in the doorway, eyes wide and hands shaking. His phone is lit up in his right hand and he looks up at her with watery hazel eyes, so scared and unsure.

"William?" She questions, slowly stepping forward, a hand outreached to stroke along her husband's jawline. The man shudders at her touch and then takes her hands within his own, his phone dropping from his palm to land with a thud on the hardwood floor.

"Have you heard from Blaine?" He asks and Maria's stomach drops to the bottoms of her feet. Blaine. This is about Blaine.

"No, no I haven't… what's- what's wrong?"

William drops her hands and rubs his face, his tense shoulders drooping as he exhales slowly. His shoulders begin quaking with sobs and Maria rushes forward, taking her husband into her arms.

"What's going on, William? What is it?"

"I got a text- I- Blaine's- he said-" William can barely compose himself, his body shaking fiercely in Maria's arms and she's terrified out of her mind; she hasn't been this scared since the night she got a phone call that her youngest child was being rushed to Westerville General just a couple (oh god, it hasn't even been that long) of years ago. The man sucks in a shuddery breath and continues, his voice cracking with each word. "Gunfire- someone- a gun- at McKinley."

Maria screams.

::

The next half hour is spent frantically punching at her phone screen, praying to whoever will hear that her baby boy just picks up his phone.

William is on his phone too, calling Cooper and their relatives, telling everyone to be on the lookout for possible phone calls from them or Blaine. Cooper's frenzied yells can be heard all the way across the room and Maria feels her heart skip a few beats when her oldest boy announces he's on his way home ASAP and to keep him updated.

We all need to be here.

She closes her eyes when Blaine's answering machine picks up again and she wonders where her baby is, if he's scared (of course he is), and if he's hurt.

She doesn't know what she'll do if he's hurt again.

::

The news stations don't know what's going on.

Random reporters from all over Ohio are arriving in Lima just to document the chaos and the local station the Andersons usually turn to for their news is reporting that so far, the gunman (or men, they say) haven't been found, nor are there any reports of injuries or deaths. When the bright eyed, blonde haired newswoman says deaths, Maria sobs into her hands, her mind traveling elsewhere, to the worst place she can go.

She's almost lost Blaine before; she can't deal with it again.

::

William sits on the front porch, his phone clutched tightly in his hand as he stares out into the driveway at the 1959 Chevy Impala he and Blaine fixed up a few summers ago. It's been parked forever, Blaine having decided to not drive it, instead deciding to drive a crappy little green station wagon he paid for with the money he made working at Six Flags. William wasn't pleased back then when Blaine announced his aversion to driving the Chevy, but never had he imagined that the reason behind the dislike of the car was because of him.

Staring at the Chevy, William remembers the days he and Blaine spent polishing it up, the hot summer days spent in the driveway revving the engine and changing its oil. Get your hands dirty, he had told Blaine, laughing when his son grimaced at the oil on his hands. Who knows? Maybe when we get this all done, you can take out one of the Meyer girls. He can still see the hurt look on Blaine's face now.

Sighing, he rises from his seat on the steps and stares down into his phone at the message he received over an hour ago.

From Blaine: There's gunshots at school. I love you, dad.

There's nothing in the world that can prepare you for getting a text such as that one. The only thing that's ever come close was the night William's phone rang and the person on the other side said they found Blaine covered in blood and leaning next to a dumpster in an alley behind the school. But this time, he's hearing from Blaine and it's scary, scarier than the anonymous phone call… because somewhere out there, Blaine is scared and upset and conscious and William can't even remember the last time he told his son he loved him.

He just can't.

When Blaine was just a little boy, William would scoop him up in his arms and cradle him, laughing when Blaine would kick his little legs and giggle, shouting, Put me down, daddy! William would just squeeze him tighter and then laugh when Blaine would laugh so loud that Maria would peek her head out of the kitchen and stare them both down until they quieted. Blaine would last about two seconds after Maria left before he began giggling again and William would start up too, both of them ignoring the judging looks from Maria as she rolled her eyes and walked past them, a fond smile on her face.

William doesn't know when he last heard Blaine laugh like that either.

Honestly, after the incident at the dance a few years ago, William found himself distancing away from his youngest child. He knows now that it was a mistake to do so, because so much stuff has gone on in Blaine's life that he's missed. He missed numerous performances from Blaine, whether it be glee club or his fencing tournaments. He missed Blaine's party for his win as the student body president of McKinley and the night he came home and found Blaine weeping at the bottom of the stairs, he walked right past him and went straight to bed, not once even caring why his son was so upset that night.

Later on he found out from Maria that Blaine was upset because he did something stupid and Kurt was going to break up with him. Later on he found out Kurt did break up with Blaine, but that wasn't too important to him either – he really didn't like Kurt.

Now though that he thinks about it, William wishes he would have at least talked to Blaine that night, asked him what was wrong instead of ignoring him. He's been ignoring his youngest boy for far too long and as much as it hurts to think it, he knows that this awful incident is scaring him back to where he belongs as Blaine's father.

::

Maria is sitting at the table, the tv shut off for now. She can't bear to hear anymore about the shooting. All she wants is for Blaine to call her and let her know he's okay, but her phone hasn't made a noise at all and the only thing on there is that last text from Blaine telling her that he loved her.

I love you, mommy.

There's a home video of little Blaine singing and dancing to the Bee Gees somewhere in the attic and at the end, tiny Blaine comes up to the camera and waves his little hands, blowing kisses into the lens while grinning and saying he loves his mom. It's Maria's favorite video and she realizes that she hasn't watched it in years. Blaine and I will watch it tonight when he comes home, she tells herself, wrapping her fingers around a mug of cooling coffee. Her eyes dart to her phone and she frowns, willing the damn thing to just ring and for it to be Blaine so she can breathe again.

But then it vibrates.

Her fingers fly from the coffee cup and zip out towards her phone, grabbing it up in a haste as she notices Blaine's name come up on her screen. There's no picture, she just never got around to saving one on there of him, but she mentally promises she will now as she answers the call with a choked out, "Blaine?!"

"Hi mommy," Blaine whispers, his voice tight. He's been crying.

"Oh, my baby," Maria sobs, dropping her head into her hands. Behind her, she hears the front door slam and the sound of footsteps come pounding down the hall, but she doesn't stop crying – and obviously neither can Blaine, as she can hear his squeaking sniffles on the other line. William drops down beside her, his watery eyes wide as he looks at her curiously and Maria nods, "It's Blaine, honey." She whimpers and William completely shuts down, bawling helplessly into his arms when he drops his head onto the table. Maria cries loudly next to him and on the other side of the line, all the way back at McKinley High School, Blaine sobs as well.

::

When they're finally able to pick Blaine up from school, Maria runs through the parking lot and throws her arm around her baby boy, the tears flowing freely as she cradles him against her. He's much taller than she is now, not much of a baby anymore, but as she holds him, she can still remember holding him against her chest, her head resting on top of his downy curls when he was just a few months old.

"My baby," she coos at him, crying a little harder when she pulls back and catches his scrunched up face while he's in the middle of babbling some sort of apology to her. "Don't you dare, sweetheart. It's not your fault." She tightens her grip around him and sighs, happy that her son is okay. Behind her, William doesn't miss a beat and wraps his arms around both his wife and son, holding them tightly against him.

"I love you, Blaine," he says and Blaine looks up for a moment, staring at him with eyes so much like his own.

"I love you too, dad."

::

Later that night, William tiptoes into the living room and pauses in the doorway, carefully studying his wife and youngest child. Maria is sitting on the couch, her socked feet resting on the coffee table and Blaine is sprawled out beside her, his head resting on his mother's legs. Maria gently strokes Blaine's curly hair, her son freshly showered and resting in his favorite X-Men pajamas, and Blaine's on the brink of sleeping, barely awake but not asleep yet either. Smiling, William walks over and lifts Blaine's feet, sitting down and manuevering his son's legs to rest on his own.

"You okay there, champ?" He asks, noticing the strange look in his son's eyes. Blaine just watches him for a moment and then closes his eyes again, crossing his arms to rest on top of his stomach.

"I'm just glad to be home," he whispers and Maria's face falls, the neverending tears flowing once more. William pats Blaine's leg and reaches out to rest a hand on his son's hands.

"We're glad your home too, Blaine. Your mother and I love you very much."

And Blaine just smiles.


A/N: I just thought maybe I'd let the Anderson parents have their own story based on last night's episode. I hope you enjoyed. Please review and thanks for reading!